Which Poisons Our Love
by Gerik's Angel
Summary: Four years after the fateful fire that destroyed part of the Opera Populaire, Christine is still in search for her missing Angel. When she finally finds him, she realizes he has changed, and many things she does not know about him. She declares her love f
1. Chapter 1

**Which Poisons Our Love**

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or it's characters.**

Summary: I hate summaries - I never do a good job on them! But the just of it is this: Four years after the fateful fire that destroyed part of the Opera Populaire, Christine is still in search for her missing Angel. When she finally finds him, she realizes he has changed, and many things she does not know about him. She declares her love for him, and in her mind, she thinks everything will work out fine now that she's with him. But then a tragedy happens, and the blame is misplaced on Erik, forcing him to once again flee. When Christine decides that she will go with him, many changes occure, and things she never realized are forced upon her. With danger lurking, can they get out of this alive, let alone keep their rocky love from ending once again?  
Really, you must read it to enjoy it. I'm not very good at summaries, like I said, but I have been writing different types of fanfics, including LOTR, for over two years now. Might be a little slow in the beginning, but catches on quick.  
One last note - I THRIVE on reviews. If you're reading, please at least drop me a quick line to say so and if you like it or not. Thanks so much!  
And now...

Which Poisons Our Love...

Christine stood in front of the Opera House, looking forlorn and with longing. Not longing for the House itself, or what it held, but what it used to hold. What it will never hold again.

She clung to her cloak, pulling it closer to her in the cold night air. She should be in her dormitory by now, but she couldn't bring herself to go in just yet. It had been a day full of painful, heart stabbing memories that were all too fresh in her mind now. She knew there would be no sleep for her tonight, and as soon as she tiptoed into the halls of the housing for the ballet rats, no matter who quietly she tried, Madam Giry would be there to scold her for being out so late.

"It will ruin your beautiful voice! Do you want that? No! Do not stay out in the night air, Christine!" She was always saying. But Christine didn't mind if her voice was ruined. Who was there to sing to now? Strangers? Her heart wasn't into it anymore - she couldn't force herself to become passionate about the stage when it came to singing. Playing silent roles that gave her no glory was certainly fine with her now. She didn't mind. So let her voice go to ruin; she didn't need it - almost as much as she didn't need _him._

She sighed, then, gathering her skirts, headed up the steps for the Opera House. At least in the comfort of her room she could remember in a proper way - find memories that took place right before her in that room, whether she welcomed them or not.

"Christine, must you?" Meg pleaded, not wanting her friend to go.

"Yes Meg...it's important to me. I'll assure you that I wont be missed. It's only a few hours long each day."

"But I'll miss you! And besides...a hospital? You - a volunteer nurse?"

"I'm not a singer anymore, Meg. I need to do something more than stage work and silent roles."

"But Christine!" Meg stopped. What else could she say?

Madam Giry, who had been listening to the two girls, took Christine by the arm and walked her away from Meg. In a hushed tone, she spoked to the girl whom she thought of as a daughter.

"Christine...you wont find him. Don't make yourself do these things just for the chance to see him."

"But Madame Giry...I'd die for the just the very chance to see him again. Taking on a small job is nothing to me. Besides...I need something to do in the long days."

The older woman nodded slowly. Of all people, she could relate best. "If you do see him...you'll be sure to tell me, wont you?"

"Of course, Madame. You'll be the very first...and probably only."

"Then go, child. Don't stay gone for too many hours. You really are missed when we are without you. This Opera House stands only for the mere hope that one day it will bare you as it's Diva."

Christine cast her a sad glance. "Then it might as well fall - I sing no longer. I sing for no one now."

Christine started to walk away when she heard Madam Giry whisper under her breath, more to herself then to whom she was addressing. "Except your angel, Christine. Do not forget your angel, child."

Those whispered words stung her eyes and tore at her heart. How could she sing for her angel if he had deserted her?


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys!

I'm SOOOO sorry I havent updated in so long - I could NOT figure out how to update another chapter facepalm But I have now, so here we go!

Thanks everyone for the reviews!

Chapter 2

When Christine was just about to leave, Meg ran to her. "Christine, I wanted you to have this." she said, holding up a box wrapped up with a bow around it.  
"A birthday present?" Christine said to herself. She had nearly forgotten it was her birthday. 'Twenty years old today. My, what an old maid I'm becoming.' she thought to herself with a smile playing softly on her lips. Slowly she took off the ribbon and paper. Opening the box, she gasped. Slow as ever, almost as if she was afraid to see it, she pulled it out. A white mask was in her hand.  
"When the mob came, they took his masks. I found this one - it was by his bed...that monkey music box - you know the one? It was beside that. I see you looking so sad all the time, and it hurts me terribly. I hate seeing my sister friend like this. I know he is the reason for all of the sorrow...so I thought you'd like to have something of his." Meg explained, touching her friend's arm lightly.  
Christine didn't answer. She dropped the box, paper, and ribbon, holding the mask in both hands. Tears welled in her eyes as she carrassed the outline of the back part of his mask.  
This once held his face, covered up what he was so ashamed of. This once belonged to him. And will again..."  
"Thank you, Meg." Christine said, tucking the mask into her cloak pocket. She kissed Meg's cheek in thankfulness, then fled out the door. She needed to see him, more then ever now. She needed to give him back his mask.

Christine coughed. She felt silly wearing a kerchief over her mouth and nose. It was uncomfortable and hard to breath - and she felt so silly wearing it. Just thinking those thoughts made her want to cry. How had he felt when he wore his mask? Much the same, she supposed.  
But right now, her heart felt heavy for a different reason. She wasn't working at a hospital, but a homeless shelter, treating those with wounds from the street or feeding their starved bodies back to health. Anyone found on the streets half dead or starving was brought here - a four room housing. Two rooms served as the place to keep all the homeless. Another, the kitchen and supply room. And a last one for a small, rustic bathroom.   
Christine had come here in what she knew was just vain hope, but just the thought of Erik on a bed here, half starved and half dead, and all alone made her heart cry until she decided to work here. She looked in false hope at the faces, young and old. He wasn't here...he wasn't-  
she stopped dead in her tracks, blinking her eyes earnestly. Too many times had her sight fooled her, too many times had a well dressed man in a long cloak deceived her mind. She squinted to see his face, but had to get closer. Seeing a nurse pass by, Christine quickly grabbed her arm.  
"Excuse me, but who is that man over there?" she asked the older lady.  
"We do not know his name - he never talked. Some men brought him here a few months ago. We thought for sure he was dead, but alas, he was alive - but just barely. We cared for him the best we could. The only time we ever heard his voice was when he snapped at us, which even that is rare. He mostly sleeps. Sleeps and eat. If I were you, I wouldnt go near him. Seeing his eyes will shatter even the most uncaring heart. Oh, how sad are those eyes! They're gorgeous, but so awfully sad. I was here once, on night shift. I was passing his bed when I heard him mutter in his sleep. He said "without her life is not worth living. Why am I here? I should be dead." Another strange fact - he always sleeps just like that - I've been here since they brought him in - I never saw the other side of his face."  
Christine gazed at him with her dark brown eyes filled with swirling tears. So he hadn't gotten over her - he hadn't turned to hate her. She felt like her feet were betraying her, seemingly glued to the floor. She waited in earnest for the nurse to walk into the kitchen, then she hurried over to the man she knew was the one she had looked for for so long.  
He was asleep. She knelt by his bed, holding his hand, almost afraid to touch it, as if she would realize that this was only a dream, and he'd fade away before her. But he didn't fade, rather, in his sleep, his hand twitched lightly at her touch. With her other hand she gently traced his face; the outer side of his cheek, his jaw, as if she couldn't truly believe he was here after so much time. So many people had tried to convince her that he was dead. She had refused to believe them, no matter how much they pleaded, or began to look at her as if she were going insane. But here she was, caressing his face...  
His eyes slowly opened, not seeing her right away. Her breath caught in her throat - the nurse had been right - what heart wrenching eyes he had! So gorgeous in color and depth, yet so sorrowful from years of unexplained hurt. Then he saw her face. Confusion and mere hope dawned in those beautiful green eyes, but was quickly snatched away into full recognition, then wickedness. He slapped her hands away, not even explaining why. Angrily he stared at her, and she back, though she only because she was too shocked to do anything else. Why had he slapped her? The nurse said he thought he should be dead - why hurt her now that she was here?  
"Why are you here? Get out!" He said fiercely.  
"Erik, why do you want me to go away? I've been trying to find you-"  
"You found me. You're childish curiousity has been fulfilled. Now go!" He said in a mocking manner.  
"I'm a volunteer nurse here..."  
"You wont be my nurse! Christine, go from me!"  
"But tell me why you wont talk to me! Have I hurt you so much? More then you hurt me?"  
"You know nothing of how you hurt me. Now why don't you run home to your precious Viscount de Changy, Madam, and tell him of how awful I am, even now?"  
"But Erik, I didn't-"  
"Nurse! Nurse!" Erik started to shout. Two nurses came running before Christine could tell him anything.  
"What is it, monsieur?" The nurses asked frantically.  
"Get this woman from my sight. I wont have her being my nurse."  
"Ma'am, please come with me. I'll show you another area that is more suitable for you." The one nurse said, lifting Christine to her feet. Christine looked back as she was pulled away.  
"Good bye, Viscountess de Changy." Erik said, again mockingly.  
"But I'm not-"  
"Enough, madam. Please don't disturb our patient any longer. We are desperate for help, but if you just aren't qualified-" The nurse started to say, but Christine cut her off by ripping her arm out of the woman's hand and running out the door. She knew the tears from the heart wrenching sobs stuck in her chest and throat were about to come out, and she refused to be humiliated in front of someone she had once admired long ago. No, not long ago, but just minutes ago. He had changed her heart now. He was successful. But he had hurt her too much.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you, Freak Star! Glad to have such a loyal reviewer already:)

Chapter 3

Christine paced back and forth, staring at the empty mirror, back down to the floor, then at the mirror again. How could he do that to her? How could he push her away? What inside of him had flared so quickly that it seemed he couldn't stand the sight of her? Her heart ached now more then ever before. She knew why he was so angry. So many years of hate for not her, but her decisions, or what he assumed she had done, had made him furious at her. Did he still love her? Or did his dreams bring him back to the past; before life was so complicated and painful?  
A knock on the door jolted Christine from her thoughts. Meg peered her head in from the door.  
"Christine, I'm glad you're back. I want to show you something." She said, her eyes shining with excitement, even though she tried hard to hide it.   
"I'll be right with you, Meg. I have a few things I must do before I forget. Will you wait a few minutes?" Christine said gently.  
"Oh course. But do hurry - it's not right for you to spend your day cooped up in your room on your birthday! You should be out having fun."  
"And I will. Just a few minutes?"  
Meg kissed her friend's cheek. "I'll be waiting in Mother's room. When you are finished, we'll go."  
And with that, Meg fled the room.  
Christine ran to her dresser, pulled out paper and took her pen, then began to write.  
My beloved Angel of Music-  
Christine stopped. That was no way to start a letter. She crumpled the paper and started anew. This time, she got it to her satisfactory and began to write feverishly. 

Christine was back to pacing. She was waiting for her letter to dry. As she blew softly on it, she read it over to herself.  
_Dearest Erik,  
Please take the time to read this letter. I realize now, as   
I should have before, you do not know about the recent  
events. I tried to explain them to you, but you left me no  
time. I have come to realize that your actions were just,  
understanding what you must think of me. Please allow  
me to explain to you a few things that you haven't the  
knowledge of.  
When Raoul and I left your lair, we began our engagement  
over again. But by the next day, grief beyond anything I  
have ever known struck me. I could think of nothing but the  
dreadful thought that I had betrayed my Angel that had  
given me so much; whom I owed so much to. I needed to  
see you again, if not just to explain my actions. Meg had  
come to me just as I was about to go to your lair, and told me  
about how she, and a mob of people, had gone down and  
raided your home. I asked her what they did when they saw  
you, and she told me you were no longer there when they  
arrived. I couldn't make myself believe that you had left,  
or that I would be separated from my Angel for the first  
time since I knew him. I ran down the passage ways from  
my mirror, and, to my horror, saw that Meg had spoke the  
truth, and that not only were you gone, but nearly all you  
owned. There I wept heedlessly, trying to keep hope in my  
heart that you would return, though somehow my heart  
knew that you wouldnt. Days passed, and Raoul did his  
best to comfort me, God bless his soul. He really did try.  
But what you did to him, he could not gather any sorrow  
for that fact that you were gone. He couldn't possibly  
understand, as could no one. Until I talked to Madame  
Giry. She was just as heartbroken as I was, though in  
a different sense. Also, she was able to handle it. Though  
I truly know very little about your past, she did tell me that  
you left when you were younger for quite a sum of years, and  
that she would try to pretend that it was like back then. But  
as the weeks when by and she saw that you did not return,  
she became as crestfallen as I was.  
It became clear that, wrapped in my grief, I could not marry  
the Vicomte any time soon. Though I promised to stay true to  
him, all plans were called off until I could learn to be without  
you. Alas Erik, to this day I have not learned that lesson, and  
I do believe I never will. The hardship of life is just too much  
of a burden without you there to help me through it. It was  
then, when the realization of this dawned on me, when  
I knew that I could not love Raoul as I should; not when I couldn't  
have him, and only him, there to love me and that be enough to  
satisfy my heart. I told him this, and the engagement was called  
off for good.  
Meanwhile, I also stopped singing. To me, there was no one left  
to sing for with the knowledge of knowing that you were absent  
from the theater. Even now, I remain in playing silent roles. To  
keep my stay here, I am also a seamstress. I fear that I will never  
get the feel for it - my fingers that bleed so much every day when  
I prick them unmercifully beg me to stop, but without this task, I  
could not afford to keep my dormitory.  
Carlotta is not the supreme Diva here anymore, either. She was  
heartbroken after finding out that Piangi was dead. She tried to  
sing after that, but her heart was gone, and she soon retreated.  
She has now left Paris, and I think, she is now residing in Spain.  
Please do not gloat in this too much, as I know you will.  
In her absence, they called on me to sing in her place, knowing  
I was capable of it after the performance of Hannible. I refused,  
for my heart also had fleeted from me. In the heat of it all, Meg  
rose to the occasion. She had been receiving singing lessons on  
the side of her ballet lessons, and she had grown to be quite good.  
In desperation, they put her in the lead. She made quite the star,  
and is now, for the fourth year, the Diva of the stage.  
The theater is very much the same as it was before the fire, in  
case you wanted to know. And I think you will find great pleasure  
in knowing that Box Five is still kept empty. Firmin and Andre are  
very superstitious now, and are quite jumpy, though they know  
you are no longer here.  
There are others, but I do not think you are very anxious to hear  
of them, so I'll leave them out. As for me, I have decreased much,  
if I could any lower then I was when you knew me. I have taken on  
odd jobs since your departure, trying in vain to find you. Madame Giry  
for a while helped me, then in sorrow, gave up . She has retreated to  
herself now, only talking during lessons, briefly to Meg at night, and to  
me to tell me that I would never find you. How wrong she was!  
As for Raoul, I have not seen him since the day that our engagement  
deceased. He is still the patron, but his checks are now the only thing  
that makes it's presence here at the Opera. I have heard nothing of  
him. I worry, knowing not whether he remains in Paris or has moved  
as far from me as possible. There are rumors from the ballet tarts,  
of course, but like you taught me even as a small child, not to  
listen to a word they utter.  
I do not.  
I hope, now that you have been informed of all you missed, that you  
will not push me away the next time I see you, which I pray is soon.  
My heart soars like it has not soared for the longest time at just  
the thought of seeing you again.  
Your Angel, even now,  
Christine Daae_

Christine slipped it into an envelope and sealed it, then started to run for the post office. Before she even reached the lobby doors, however, Meg had caught up with her.  
"Christine, where ever are you off too?" Meg asked in confusion.  
"I must mail this letter. It's very urgent."  
"Nothing is wrong, I hope?"  
"No, but it is very important."  
"Then I'll just have someone deliver it to the post office for you."  
"But it must be tonight, and it must reach there."  
"Then I'll find someone now; some one dependable." Meg said. Christine reluctantly handed her the letter then Meg fleeted off. In a few minutes, a smile spread across her face, she led Christine down to the ballet rat's dormitories. 


	4. Chapter 4

Meg rushed down the hallways with Christine's wrist in her hand, leading the way down. Opening the door to the room, Christine saw nearly every ballet dancer that worked for this Opera, with Madame Giry in front of them, getting ready to slice the several cakes she had on the table in front of her.  
"Surprise!" Everyone yelled to her, though a bit too late. Christine ran to Madame Giry and hugged her. "Thank you." She said, and looked around at everyone. 

Though the night before had been a rare treat for Christine, the morning brought her back into her gloom; for, slipped under her door, was the letter that she had written to Erik. It had been sent back, unopened. Sadly, she slipped the letter into her pocket and returned to the homeless shelter. She watched Erik from across the room as he slept, the nurses walking as far away as they could from his bed when they passed. She tried to focus on her work, but found it quite impossible. How could she pretend that everything was normal when the man she had been tracking for years was so close to her? Finally, when it was lunch break for many of the nurses and volunteer helpers, she agreed to stay behind and watch over the patients, along with a few newer nurses.  
Christine ran over to Erik, not being able to wait any longer.  
"Erik, Erik, wake up." She said gently, lightly shaking his arm. His green eyes glowed as they slowly opened.   
"Why did you not read my letter? Why did you return it?" Christine asked before he could refuse her.  
"I sent it back because I did not care for anything you had to say to me, as I do not now. I had believed I stated this quite clearly before." He said sharply.  
Christine tried to hide the hurt in her eyes, but it was not a very good disguise. Instead, she tried to look annoyed. "You once loved me. You and I...we were one person. Now just because I made some decisions on my own you don't want to even look at me? That hardly seems like the Erik I knew."  
"Maybe I'm not the same person that you knew. Did it ever occur to you, my dear, that I change my ways too? It's not just you who changes their minds every time something happens. I can change. Obviously, as I lay on a homeless shelter's bed, that I have let many things in me go. Now please, leave me before I tell the other nurses."  
"Tell them what, Erik? That the only friend you have in this world is trying to find a way to have some type of relationship with you and you refuse them? I beg of you, please just read my letter if you refuse so hardily to hear my words." Christine pleaded, holding out the letter. He grabbed it in his hands, ripped it in half, then threw it to her feet. The defenses that she held up were now destroyed when he did so, and now the inevitable pain flashed before her eyes as she stared at him. He stared at her back, as if in a challenge to see what she would do next. She turned, and started to flee the shelter, bound never to come back. Then he called her name, making her stop immediantly and turn around.  
"Christine...don't tell Madame Giry about seeing me here." Erik said in a mixed tone. Christine's hopes that soared when he called her name came crashing down, tugging all too hard on her heart. Muffling a sob, she turned on her heel and ran. Christine paced back and forth in her room, wringing her hands as helpless tears fell onto her blouse. Erik had shattered everything in her. Every emotion that she had welled up inside as she continued her desperate search to find him through the years was now screaming in pain. Her heart had never hurt so much.  
Meg had come to see if Christine was alright before rehearsals. Christine said everything was just fine, and that she'd be retiring to her bed early tonight, then set her friend on her way. What could Meg do? Christine was in great need to tell of the resent events, but who could she tell? Meg, though she was a great friend and very much like a sister, was not very discreet, and her tongue was quite loose when it came to secrets - that Christine had learned long ago. And she couldn't tell Madame Giry. She wasn't sure why, but Christine felt the need to obey Erik's wish, though he had deserted and refused her. Perhaps she so longed to have her Master back that she still thought of him that way. The way he used to be, when times were so much easier.  
Then Christine stopped in her tracks. What had she heard? By this time of night, everyone was fast asleep. Straining her ears to hear, she realized it was probably just her imagination getting the better of her, and started pacing again. But within moments, there was another sound.  
"Whose there?" She called out in a shaky voice, feeling silly to even do such. It was probably just a rat loose again from under the cellars. No one answered. She looked out the door - darkness was the only thing to greet her. But she was so sure she had heard a sound!  
Starting to spook herself, she tried to calm down, though she continued her pacing once again. Just when she was reaching her mirror though, did she stop and let out a terrified scream. It was not of the terror for what she saw, but for the great unexpectedness of him.  
"Erik?" She whispered hoarsely, rooted to the floor in disbelief. He said nothing, did nothing, though she now saw him clearly. His hand was on the side of his unmasked deformed face, his cape draped about him. His clothes were not dirty nor wrinkled now as they had been at the shelter. He looked quite elegant once again, though his eyes still carried a great pain. Christine finally found the ability to move her feet and walk to him, opening the mirror.  
"My mask..." He whispered tenderly. She immediately fetched him the little white mask on her dresser that Meg have given her, and placed it in his hand. Her turned from her to put it on, although she couldn't understand why anymore then she could understand everything else he had done since she had met him again. After all, she had seen his face unmasked. She had kissed his face unmasked! But she said nothing, and waited until he turned to her again. When he did, his face was again masked, though his agony was not.  
"Would you mind telling me what you are doing here in my mirror?" She asked lightly, not sure whether to smile or cry.   
Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached into an inner pocket of his cape and withdrew two thin pieces of paper and an envelope. After glancing at them, Christine saw her handwritting on them. It was her letter. She looked back into his eyes, but he refused her gaze.  
"You are correct, Christine...I do jump to assumptions to early. I ask of you to forgive me, knowing that I have never once asked another living soul for forgiveness in my entire life."  
Had she seen a sly smile tug at his lips when he said this? She took the letter from him and put it on the near by side table, then took his gloved hands into hers as she started to lead him away from the mirror and into her room. But just then, there was loud knocking.  
"Christine? Christine, are you alright?" Came Meg's frantic shrill voice from the other side of the room. Erik quickly withdrew his hands and backed into the path beyond the mirror, shutting it to conceal himself as Christine ran to her friend. When she opened the door, she saw not only Meg there, but Madame Giry and a few other ballet girls that had helped put on her party.  
"Christine, we heard you scream!" Meg panted, her blue eyes full of fret.  
Christine gave a weak smile to her. "I'm very sorry to disturb all of you. I was simply taken by surprise of a rat in my room - the second one this week." She said in her calmest voice, although inside her heart was all aflutter.  
"I'll be sure to get a rat catcher, Christine. Ever since...since the fire...rats have been everywhere." Meg said, stuttering when she came to the tender subject, trying to avoid her friend's eyes. It was true - the rats that usually dwelled in the tunnels behind the walls of the theater all soon were forced into where Erik had once lived. They multiplied by the thousands down there, then when the Opera House was completed, they began to escape the deep underground.  
Christine nodded a thank you then shut the door. As soon as she listened to the last footsteps walk sleepily away, she rushed back to the mirror and threw it open, leading Erik out once more. He looked at her in that guilty, shamed way once more that she truly did hate. Why could he not look at her like he used to?  
"Erik...please, why must you always seem that you are torturing yourself?" She asked, sitting on the side of the bed with him beside her. He looked at her timidly, trying to muster his strength to tell her.  
" I torture myself for I have wronged you." Again he spoke softly, hardly at all.  
"And I have forgiven you. You did not know."  
"Still..." His voice faded, along with his courage. It took some time for him to speak again, as they sat in darkness, with only two dim candles to cast shadows and allow eachother to see one another's face. Finally, his soft voice came again. "In this life I clung to only two things for so long. I clung to the obsession, the love that I wished to have, and I clung to my pride. I lost my love so quickly, it seems. My pride followed soon after. But when I first saw you...my pride was restored. I could not let you see me as such. I cast you away because I could not bare the thought of you seeing me and what I had been reduced to. I refused to let Madame Giry see me for the same reason...and more. She would have made such a big fuss and would have complicated matters that are now better left alone." With this he stared her straight into her eyes. "I was wrong to lash out at you. My anger was wrongly placed. But..." He trailed off, and when he did speak again, it was more to himself then to Christine.  
"You can only go on so many years hating only yourself. The fury wells in you only for so long; lashing out at yourself does nothing but make it multiply. It has to be someone else. Then the fury slightly drains, and the resentment of what you have done fills."  
Once again, Christine took his hands into hers, but he refused. Instead, he stood up, now seeming to have an emotional barrier put up. He was now nothing but determined in his words.  
"You have indeed restored my pride. No longer can I stay in that shelter-"  
Christine cut him off in her hopefulness. "Will you stay in the lair then? Will you be here?" She asked eagerly. He turned his gaze away from her as he shook his head.  
"Only for a little while. I plan to find some means of obtaining money...honorably. Once I get enough, I'll buy a small apartment to live like every other decent being. I shall not live the remainder of my life in a sewer!" It was the determination talking for him, not the fury, but his sentence ended harshly. His lit up eyes flashed at her for a moment before he turned away. But something struck him dumb as he looked back. No, it wasn't his imagination, he realized. When he looked back at her, he saw. Christine had tears streaming down her cheeks, a look of hopelessness upon her beautiful face. What had he said that made her so upset and made his heart lurch into his throat?  
"Christine?"  
She stood up, looking helpless as she stared at the floor, her silent tears coming harder. Then she walked to him, right in front of him, as well as close, and stared into her eyes, capturing his gaze and holding it intensely. "Do I not come in any of your plans? Do you intend on leaving me here to wallow in grief as you do? Is this your valiant plan for us? I searched so long to find you, thinking that once I laid eyes on you, an eternal happiness would fill me. You leave me void time after time of this. Why? Do you not love me after all? Have I fallen victim to your cruel joke as I try to return the feelings you once had for me? Abandoned as you have always been? Do you not care at all anymore, Erik? Have you turned completely emotionless, even for me?" Her breaths came in short gasps now, as Erik stared at her, completely stunned, not even trying to hide it. Surely she was not implying...? Surely she was not truly saying...?  
"Do you mean all that you say, Christine? Think before you answer! Do not let me even dare to believe such if you do not whole heartily mean it. Do you, Christine?"  
She could only nod, her sobs of sorrow racking her chest so hard she found it difficult to breath. Lightly, ever so lightly, she pressed her forehead into his chest, trying to calm down, and failing miserably. Then she felt her hand in his gloved one, and a hand under her chin gently lifting her gaze into his eyes once more. And alas, they were not in pain! They did not harbor that vicious pain or hurt. Tears of his own swarmed in his soft, warm, love filled eyes.   
"Christine...would you really...would you truly want a life with me? Have you thought this through thoroughly?" He asked, still in disbelief.  
"For years I have wandered in my own darkness, and found that the only light to cure my darkness was you. I don't care what you plan to do, nor where you live. Just take me with you and let me be where ever you chose to be." She said, speaking clearly though she was so upset. "Do you still love me, Erik? Love me like you used to?"  
He pulled her tightly to him, his face lowered near to hers. She couldn't see them, but knew that he was hiding his own tears as he held her in his strong embrace. "Of course I do. Even more." He whispered musically in her ear that made her whole body tremble and weak in relief. How long they stood there, neither could later on recall, nor did they care. To be held in eachother's embrace, uninterrupted and at long last peace, was something they couldn't possibly express with worldly words. Needless to say, every plan that Erik had was immediately changed around to revolve around Christine and only her. 


	5. Chapter 5

Welcome to all my new readers and thank you for all my reviewers! Your reviews mean ALOT to me:)

Christine slept soundly that night, better then she had in years. She dreamt not of haunting nightmares, but of the sweetest dreams, always in each dream was there the most beautiful singing voice to accompany it.  
"In sleep he sang to me..."  
After such a night, Christine had every intention in awaking to a bright, crisp beautiful morning that would begin her wonderful, carefree day - even if it would be filled with working in a small, cramped seamstress room. But that was not how fate had planned it, and in the end, it was fate that had won out.  
Christine awoke to Meg's once again frantic voice as she jumped onto her bed.  
"Christine, Christine, you must wake up and see this! Wake up!" Meg's shrill voice pleaded as she shook the poor girl's arm.  
Christine forced her sleepy eyes open. "What time is it, Meg?"  
"It's five in the morning. But who cares about the time? Look at this!" Meg said anxiously, thrusting a newspaper in front of Christine's face. Christine took the paper and read the title slowly, and a few times over again before she could start to grasp the meaning, as if her mind had momentarily shut down.  
"Vicomte de Changy Nearly Killed! Long Lost Phantom involved?" Read the headline. Christine couldn't believe her eyes, but forced herself to read the article anyway.  
" Last night, in the hour of midnight, while the Vicomte de Changy slept peaceful on his davenport after falling asleep accidently from the weariness of the long business day, an intruder snuck into his home. Strangely enough, when the Vicomte awoke, he saw that this man stole nothing, merely looking for something...or someone. Upon finding that the Vicomte was in the room, the intruder took out his sword and slashed the Vicomte upon his chest. Just as he was ready to strike again for a finishing blow, Mademoiselle Lafoife started down the stairs, after hearing the racket. Quickly the intruder tried to get away, not knowing how many were coming down, and incapable of seeing who was on the stairs. Before he succeeded in escaping the house though, it has been recorded that the moonlight shining in from the window had caught the intruder's face - or what should have been his face. Instead, the Vicomte says he saw a white mask upon his face. Horror struck him, making him fall to the floor as the intruder got away. A doctor was sent, and the Vicomte pulled through. The real question now remains - after four years, since the night of the Opera Populaire fire, and such peacefullness - has the Phantom of the Opera returned to haunt us and get revenge once again?  
Christine shook her head violently, staring in horror at the article that was before her. Surely Erik had not done such a thing! And the price above his head now...why, attempting to kill a vicomte? It was a fine too large to bear, if they'd even accept money now. What chance did Erik have against the world? If they killed him on spot, would anyone think to care that someone might want justice? No, of course not. And even more thought wrenching - would Madame Giry step up and claim him? Why did her heart doubt the woman so?  
While thinking of Erik's safety, there were other thoughts whirling through her mind. How could he! Trying to kill Raoul? What sense was left in the genius' mind? He already knew she hadn't seen Raoul since the day they broke off the engagement - there was no need to try to rid him from her! How dare he try to take the life of an innocent man, just trying to carry on with life, the same one that she had reduced to shambles. How could Erik be so thoughtless, so cruel?  
He couldn't be! He couldn't be like this! It wasn't true - it was all made up, at least, she tried so hard to believe that as she stared at the enlarged photo of Raoul laying bloodied on a hospital bed, surely looking near dead.  
No, she wouldn't believe it. Just as simple as that. She'd go down to Erik's lair, and he'd explain that he had nothing to do with it. Then Raoul would say that the press just had a field day and stretched the truth - of course there was no mask involved! That must have been just for flare. And then after that confession, she could go back to Erik and they'd live the lives they had planned the previous night. So why did the pit of her stomach churn at the thought?  
No matter the outcome, Christine had to know the truth. And starting at this moment, she was going to find out!


	6. Chapter 6

**Freakstar: **You just may be the best reviewer I have ever had! (I've been doing this for about 7 months!) Thank you for all your reviews, they mean alot to me! I'm flattered:)

**Erikmysweet**: Are you on PFN with the same name? If so, I'm Phanphicwriter14 on there (writer of Paradox and Secret of Rouen). Just wondering if it was a coincidence or not...

**All the rest**: Thanks SOOOO much for your sweet replies! love to you all...and another chapter!

Christine had ran down to the lair, only to find it empty. Erik was not there, which only made her stomach churn. Surely the papers couldn't be true...could they? No, of course not! Just because he wasn't there now didn't mean she should doubt her trust in him!  
She was soon pounding on the door of the Vicomte's house, or rather, from the looks of it, his mansion. A servent opened the door and gave a slight bow. "Yes, Madam?" She said in a timid voice.  
"I'm here to see Vicomte de Changy immediately." Christine panted.  
"We do not accept-"  
"My name is Christine Daae - I am a very good friend of Raoul's! Please, let me see him!" Christine was reduced to begging now, but she didn't care.  
The little black woman nodded and let her in, then indictated for Christine to be seated while she confirmed the situation with Raoul.  
Christine couldn't help but stare. He did have such a beautiful house. Everything had amazing detail. All this for one man? Christine felt a pang of guilt as she let her mind wander as far as thinking that all of this could have been hers.  
She rose from the ivory colored davenport when the servent came back.  
"This way, Ma'am." She said curtly, then led her up a flight of cream colored stairs. All the while, Christine kept looking all around her, soaking it all in. Finally, she reached the door to the room that Raoul was in. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to see the man, her ex-fiancé, that she hadn't seen in what seemed like an eternity.  
She opened the door and saw Raoul laying in his bed, looking quite pale. He was without a shirt, only large amounts of bandages across his chest, so only oneof his shoulders stuck out, the rest the sheet over him covered. His eyes were not open when she entered the room, but as she drew near, his eyes not only opened, but widened in amazement.   
"Sarah told me a Christine Daae was here to see me...but I thought she must be mistaken. Christine, after all this time, can it really be you?" Raoul asked. Christine's heart wrenched, the memory of how badly she had hurt him coming back to flood her. Truly, she still loved him as she always would. Just, for some reason, her love for him and his for her just was never enough in her eyes. But seeing him now made her start to doubt.  
Christine ran to Raoul's bedside, sitting on the wood floor as she grabbed his outstretched hand and kissed it.  
"Raoul, you look terrible!" She cried, emotions overwhelming her.  
He grinned slyly. "Why thank you - just the compliment I've dreamt about you giving me the next time I saw you." He teased. But Christine was in no mood to be jovial with.  
"Was it really him, Raoul? Truly? You saw him...you're sure?"  
Raoul gave her a sympathetic look, knowing what she was going through.  
"I'm sorry Christine, but I saw his mask."  
"You're sure?"  
"I'm sure."  
Christine looked down, feeling her heart break. Why? Why would Erik try to not only keep his old habits of murdering to get what he wanted, even after he knew she loved him, but to attack someone that was so dear to her; that's still dear to her!  
Raoul sighed, tightening his grip on her hand. "I'm sorry, Christine. Although I can not understand why you torture yourself with trying to love a man such as he, I do understand what this means for you. I grieve for what you will inevitably put yourself through because of this."  
Christine's piercing brown eyes looked painfully into his blue ones as her heart felt like it was being ripped from her chest. Raoul put his hand gently on her cheek to comfort her, old feelings for both of them rising. Just then the door burst open again and a little girl with long curly golden hair and big blue eyes running in and jumped on the bed, making Raoul wince from pain.  
"Are you alright?"The little girl asked, her face inches from his, her eyes like saucers.  
"Yes Katie, I'm fine. Didn't your mother tell you that?" Raoul replied.  
"Yes...but I was afraid she was just saying that. You're really okay, Daddy?"  
Christine's heart stopped as she sucked in her breath. Daddy?  
Raoul side glanced at her with an unreadble look on his face, then ran his hand through the little girl's wild hair. "Yes honey, I'm alright. Really, I am."  
Christine sat on the floor, feeling suddenly like she didn't belong here.  
'So he had moved on. He doesn't love me anymore...' She thought.  
She had begged him to move on from her the last time she saw him. Why did she feel like he betrayed her when she saw that he did what she asked?  
She felt another presence in the room. Christine turned to see a tall, very elegant looking woman standing in the doorway. Her brunette curly hair was pinned up in a loose bun, and jewerly seemed to adorn everywhere possible. Her dress was of class. The woman looked over the situation and frowned deeply. She looked like she was a bit older than Raoul was, but Christine knew who she was immediantly. His wife.  
It was only then when Christine became very self concious under the woman's hard, icy gaze. Looking down, only then did she become aware that nothing more than a cloak hid what she wore underneath still - her nightgown. Her hair was messy, the curls seemed like they were in a frenzy. Raoul, when they were still sweethearts, would have said she looked beautiful and innocent as a pure white dove, but Christine was positive that wasn't what the woman in the doorway was thinking. Anything but!  
Christine gulped, trying to still her heart as she flashed Raoul a worried glance. She knew now that she shouldn't have come! What had she walked into; what had she stirred in the woman's thoughts?  
Christine rose from the floor and tried to smile, pushing her loose hair back with her left hand as she neared the woman; neared Raoul's stern wife.  
"Hello, I'm Christine Daae - I was Ra-...the Vicomte's dear friend when we were young. I'm sure he told you of me-"  
"He told me nothing of you. How do I know your story is true?" She asked coldly. Christine was taken aback, though she wasn't sure what she was more shocked about - the fact that this woman questioned her intentions here, or that Raoul had never even uttered a word of her to his own wife! It saddened her deeply to know that Raoul thought so little of her. She glanced back at Raoul, who's cheeks were considerably reddened.  
Christine sighed and decided to do what she must, even though she wanted so badly to talk to Raoul.  
"Forgive me, Madame de Changy, I can see that I am not wanted here. I'm sorry I intruded upon your home." And with that, Christine walked out of the room, looking dignified, but not looking back. What did it matter now, anyway? She had gotten what she came for - the truth. She knew now, though her heart wrenched in trying to believe, that Erik had indeed done what she thought he would never do - hurt her deeply. Both of the men that she had dearly loved at one time or another had both betrayed and hurt her within the same day. As soon as Christine was out of sight from the de Changy's house, her shoulders slacked and her head bowed - she no longer felt very dignified. She no longer felt a lot of things.


	7. Chapter 7

**Freakstar: Once again, thanks so much! Trust me, if I could publish a book, I so would! It's just about my biggest goal in life! It's why I write phics and such - I'm practicing until I can get good enough to be published. **

**Come on, everyone else, I know you're out there somewhere! I want to hear from you:)**

Back at the Opera House, Christine soon saw that it did not look as she had left it - now it was swarming with police officers. She ran inside the building, where there was scarcely any room left to move. The Populaire had not been this full since the Don Juan Triumphant Opera, although there were even more officers now than there was then; although for the same purpose. Christine pushed her body through the crowds, seeming as if she was apologizing non stop for bumping into so many people. Finally, she was able to reach her dressing room and opened the mirror, careful to shut it behind her. Then she practically flew down the hundreds of steps, and rowed across the lake until she was in his lair.  
"Erik!" She screamed out, whirling around to find him. "Erik! I need to speak with you - now!" She tried to put firmness in her voice, but failed. The sobs that she had been holding back were seeping into her voice.  
Erik emerged from the shadows in the direction of his bedroom. "Yes?" He was busy trying to rub his eye without irritating his mask.  
"How can you be so calm in my presence?" She exclaimed, it unnerving her that he just stood there as if nothing was happening. "Why did you do it, Erik? Why?" Angrily she yelled, then raced to him, beating her fists on his chest. He just stared at her in confusion. Finally, he had enough of her tantrum, and seized her wrists into his large hands. "Christine, why are you angry? What have I done?"  
"Don't think you can hide it, Erik! What you have done is in the newspapers - and to prove it, you weren't even here this morning! Why were you asleep just now?"  
"Late night. I was busy. But-"  
"I'm sure you were! Tell me, tell me please - why? Why did you do it? Why did you try to kill Raoul, Erik? Did you bother to find out about him? He has a little girl, do you know that? A little girl...Katie...that would have been fatherless if you had succeeded last night. Does that make you feel no remorse for what you have done?" Christine was still screaming, but by the end, she had worked herself up too much. Finishing her sentence, she put her forehead against Erik's chest and sobbed.  
"Christine...I don't have the slightest idea what you speak of. Tried to kill de Changy? Why would I do something like that? I was up all night composing music to play for you today. This morning I went out shopping. Yes, Christine - even a phantom such as I must go fetch things once in a while. When I came back, I fell asleep, until you awoke me just now. What ever you speak of, I had nothing to do with."  
Christine looked into those sincere eyes. Instantly, she knew he hadn't done it. His voice, his true confusion, his eyes...they were not lying. But still, the logical side of her refused to be satisfied.  
"But he said that he saw your mask! He told me himself that the man who attacked him had a mask on - he saw it in the moonlight! How could you not have done it - there isn't very many masked Phantoms running around in Paris, Erik!"  
"Calm down. Christine, have you thought let a single sensible thought pour into your mind at all today? Think, Christine - I am not the only one with a mask anymore. Do you not remember that many people raided my lair, or have you forgotten this in your hysteria? You know very well that not one mask made it to the vaults, yet all eleven of them were missing when I returned. Couldn't someone have done this in my name? Deliberately shone de Changy my mask in the moonlight so this would happen? Think, Christine. Think of what you are accusing me of. Have you so little faith in me? Truly, I'm quite disappointed. I thought you trusted me more than this."  
Christine looked at him as her tears started again. She had been judgmental, and she had jumped to conclusions. Many things she had not thought about before she ran in to his home and decided to blame him for everything. Still, after all this time and all the had been through, was she no better then everyone else?  
"The police are here. All of Paris is searching for you. Come, follow me. Hide in my dressing room - no one will think to look in there. I'll close it off - make some excuse to say it's under repairs." Christine said, taking his large gloved hand into hers.  
"You believe me then?" Erik asked, refusing to move before she answered.  
"You would never lie to me, Erik. You're trust is the one piece of steady ground that I'll always be able to stand on. I know that."  
"I'd never hurt you either, Christine."  
She looked back into his green eyes, and realized instantly how much she had hurt him in her accusations, but there was no time for apologies now. She had to get him away from here; the police were sure to find the way.


	8. Chapter 8

**Freakstar: **I dont know if I accept anonymous reviews, I'm quite new on this site! I hope I do, I'd like to hear from your friend!

**Bella DeMuerte: **thanks so much for your wonderful review! I'm glad you like my style of writing and the story:)

**Araiona Dubois:** Glad you're enjoying the story and doing so many reviews!

**All:** I'm really sorry, but this is a short chapter. I'll get the next one up as soon as I see you all read this one:D

Christine rushed about, trying desperately in the sea of uniforms and costumes, to find Madame Giry. Once she was able to reach the theater, she finally found her.  
"Christine, I've been looking everywhere for you! Do you know what is happening?" Madame asked.  
"I do. Meg awoke me early this morning with the news."  
"Why did he do it? I don't understand why he would do it!" Madame Giry cried.  
"He didn't! I talked to both of them - Erik says he didn't do it." But even as these words sunk in, Christine knew from the unmistakable look in Madame Giry's eyes that she didn't believe her.  
"You really think that Erik would do this? You don't believe that he tells the truth?" Christine asked.  
"Christine...perhaps you don't know him like I do. I've known him near all his life. This thing...this thing that he has been blamed for...it's not exactly a stretch of Erik's former bad deeds."  
"I don't believe he was lying..."  
"Believe what you want. Either way, we must not let the officers catch him. God only knows what they'd do to him...torture him like a beast in likely though."  
Christine looked at her in horror. "We got to do something! I have him in my room - but surely that wont be enough! He better of not of went back down to his lair - right before I left I warned him, but he never listens, and you know that many people now know the way."  
Madame Giry nodded. "We best check on him, but there is little we can do, but to keep him secluded in there as long as possible. I'd tell you to be with him, seeing that he is highly claustrophobic and hates anything that could possibly resemble a cage, but you'll be too important - the police will want to talk with you, as well as me."  
"So even though you believe he may have done it, you still want to help him?"  
Much to Christine's surprise, Madame Giry nearly laughed! "Of course I want to help him. He is not that many years younger than me, but I look at him like my son - in a way, I raised him. I do not support many of his choices, but I would never want to see him in jail."  
Just then, Meg came running up, seemingly out of breath. "Heavens - where have the two of you been? I've been looking everywhere!" She panted.  
"What's wrong, Meg?" Christine asked, feeling shaky to see her friend so alarmed.   
"The officers are interviewing all the ballet and chorus girls! They just finished interviewing me, and they're so mean!"  
Both Christine and Madame Giry's eyes widened. "What did you tell them Meg?" Christine asked, her knees and hands trembling now.  
"Well, I told them about how it's been quiet around here for the longest time - no signs of the Phantom at all."  
Christine let out her breath, but too soon. Meg went on. "Then I told them about some of the older things - about how Raoul and he were rivals of some sort, and that the Phantom fancied you. And I mentioned about his lair, of course, and about your mirror-"  
"My mirror!" Christine exclaimed, stopping a few people that were not too far away. She immediately turned and started to run to her bedroom as fast as her legs would take her, with Madame Giry and Meg following behind. Once in her room, she saw that Erik was no longer there, and the mirror was wide open. Erik never would have left his secret entryway open for the police to see. Which only meant one thing...


	9. Chapter 9

**Madamefluff: Sorry, I'm kinda new at FFN, so the breaking of the paragraphs is a bit new to me. But I will try to do that! And I'll definately be looking for your story when I get a chance!**

**Goldenpuppies at heart and AngeMusique: Welcome!**

...The police were already there - already through the passages and in the lair. And Erik was no where to be found.  
"Did I do something wrong? What did I do? Please forgive me!" Meg said passionately as they came in, she seeing Christine's look of pitiful despair. But Christine had more important things to do than to console friends - she took a deep breath, then raced down the passageways.

But she stopped short when she came upon the bank of the lair. They were everywhere, looking more like a colony of hungry ants than police officers. There was upturned bookshelves, the books that had remained before now scattered along the stone floor. Candles were knocked over, papers littering the floor. They were ruining the lair!   
"Madame, I'll have to ask you to leave. This...place is undergoing a search." An officer said, spotting her.

"But monsieur, you must stop wrecking it! Please, the man you search for has not known this, his old home, for over four years. I look after here now - I use it. Those books, those papers...they're all I have left of him. Please, do not hurt them!" Christine heart felt begged.  
"Madame..."  
"Please! Can you not see that he isn't here? If you must continue to search, please be careful. To many, the 'Phantom' was nothing more than a nusience. But he was my teacher, my one understanding friend. In my heart, I fear he is dead. So you see, this is all I have left. Please..."  
"Very well, Madame." The kind hearted officer answered.  
Christine stood back and watched, feeling horribly nervous. She could sense him...yes, he was here, somewhere. Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, scanned the crevices of the lair. Suddenly, she saw a glimpse of white and a flash of black. He was near his desk where all the clutter of discarded things were! But luckily, no one else noticed, and finally, the officers gave up.  
"We'll be going back up, Ma'am. Shall I help lead the way for you?" The man she had spoken to before asked. But Christine shook her head.

"I'd like to straighten up the mess everyone made, if you don't mind. I'll be up shortly."  
A look of suspicion came to the officer's eyes, but with a flash of a sweet, innocent smile on her part, the policeman went to ground with the rest of his crew. Christine ran over to the desk as soon as they were surely gone to find Erik. Sure enough, he was there, crouching down.

"Erik, you must get out of here! They're everywhere! Don't think they wont come back; they will, surely they will. You must go!"  
Erik only nodded, then motioned for her to be silent. Grabbing her wrist, he lifted a velvet curtain and plunged the both of them into darkness. 

Christine dared not scream, but everything inside her was. It was completely black - nothing could be seen. Yet round bends and up small hills they ran. If Christine did not trust this man she had for so long called her angel, never would she have made it this far. It didn't help that her mind kept shouting how afraid she was of the dark, either. But with her hand clasped tightly with his, being so close to him that his cape kept tangling in her legs, somehow she was managing. She would not turn back, not now - not after everything that had happened before. She'd put away her fears for now until this was over, and then feast on them later.

Finally, Erik stopped. "Slowly now." He whispered into her ear. "Bend down a bit as well. Yes, there you go. Keep up with me, not too far now."  
It wasn't long until Christine realized why she was bending. Although her face was only about three feet from the rocky ground, she could still feel the sharp, jagged ceiling scrape against her back every now and then as they walked upwards. Until finally, the jagged ceiling turned into smooth wood, and small beams of light poured faintly down every now and then. A strong smell of smoke drifted to her nostrils, making her cough. Erik quickly shoved a handkerchief in her hand, which she covered her nose and mouth with. They were under the theater now, under the stage. As she listened to Erik curse softly under his breath, she realized that he must have made a wrong turn somewhere. Now he quickly searched for the path that he was supposed to be on. Christine figured he must have found it then, because he started running once again, dragging her with. The looming stench of smoke soon faded until it was hardly there at all. Finally, much to her legs relief, he opened a small door and pushed her through, him following behind. It was nearly just as dark here, but there were tiny cracks of light that squeezed through the ceiling. Surely that wasn't enough to light the room as it was though...then she understood. The beams of light were reflecting off of long, full length mirrors that surrounded the two of them. Christine suddenly rose to her feet again and whirled around. Where had he brought her.

"Sit, Christine. You have no need to fear." Erik said calmly in hushed tones. Was that a hint of amusement she heard in his voice? Surely not in a time like this!  
"What is this place?" She hoarsely asked back, feeling frightened again.  
"Sit and I will talk." Was his only answer. She sat next to him, inches from his body. Anyone would have suited to make her feel better at a time like this.   
"Uh...would you mind sitting across from me, my dear? This mask...it's hard to..." He fumbled, seemingly embarrassed.  
"Oh, of course." Christine, for the first time, seemed glad of the darkness - it hid her crimson face. "Now...where are we, Erik?"  
"This, my dear, is my torture chamber."  
"What!" She said, not too loud, but enough to make him wince and shush her.   
"Do not speak so loudly again. You know I would not harm you, Christine - do you not? There is no reason to act so childishly. It's not a torture chamber unless I make it one. This one works differently than my other."

"You have more?" Christine asked, forgetting her circumstance and wondering if she really knew that man that sat across from her.  
"One, but that is beside the point. For now, it is what will keep you safe. Remember the Masquerade and the dramatic exit I presented? I went down a trap door, leading your beau down as well - to here. You see, we are under the lobby of the Opera House currently. Be sure to speak quietly always - many people stand right above you. As for the officers, I know what you said is true - and I must escape; to flee Paris, for good this time-"  
"All your plans...to live civilly..."  
"The good Vicomte saw to it that those plans did not come true, did he not? Those plans I foolishly made are now officially dashed. I must leave, once again taking the murder's pathway through life, at least for a few years. I fear this will not simmer down for a great while. It will not be forgotten. Now listen to me, Christine - listen carefully. There's a small door directly behind you. There's a short pathway that you follow for about...ten yards or so. At the end is a normal size door. At the top ledge of the door is a key for the lock, since the door always remains so. Unlock that, and you're in the hallway leading to the Ballet rats dormatory and Madame Giry's housing. You know you're way from there. It's not hard, just keep your wits about you-"  
"You want me to do that?" Christine asked, stunned.  
"Yes, you must get back to ground."  
"As for you?"

"There's another path out the door from which we came. Take a right instead of a left, and you find yourself about a hundred yards from the Opera House and near some stables. I'll escape using that."  
"But you said you'll never come back to Paris! We'll be separated forever! No, Erik, I can't do that.  
Living without you for four years passed by like a thousand eternities! Do not condemn me to that life a misery once again! Let me go with you! I'll do anything you say, I promise. Please, Erik-"  
"I will hear no such nonsense, Christine Daae! Do not make me lose my temper. What I am about to do is not pleasant - I'll be living the life of a criminal of the worse sort. I'll be tracked for the rest of my days. Never would I allow an innocent child to accompany me. What good would by judgement be then? How much of a genius would I be then?" He flared. But Christine could tell that it was not her he was furious at; nor at the person who had inflicted this upon him. He was angry that she had laid the great temptation in front of him - and on any other circumstance, he would have seized it with out a thought, but now his greater judgement, his conscious not many knew he had, would torture him if he did what she begged.  
"Erik, you did not see me as a child years ago when you first asked me to marry you - to be your wife! Four years later, considered an old maid by many, and it's now you look upon me as a child? Let me be come with you. Do not put upon me a fate that shall curse me for the rest of my days. Take me with. Give me a chance to prove loyalty to you. Let me in your heart, Erik. For so many years that's all you wanted from me, and I was too young and foolish to give it to you. Let me make it up now. Take me with you; don't leave me behind."  
Christine could literally see the indecision and emotions welling in his eyes. He seemed tortured, indeed. She had said the right words to move his heart as it had never been moved my another living person in his life.

"Promise me, Christine - promise me." He said, gruff from emotion, "that you'll do exactly as I say, no matter what. If I decide that it's too dangerous along the way, that you'll go back without another word. Promise me that you'll go along with my plans, no matter what they are. Promise me, Christine, and I'll consider this."  
But it was too late. She could have said anything - he had already made up his mind to bring her, this she knew. It was in the way he spoke, the way he looked at her.  
With her sweetest smile, and her bravest look, she stared into his eyes and promised him everything he had asked. And then, as suddenly as he had before, he grabbed her wrist and ran out the door with her once more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Freakstar: I now accept all reviewers! But facepalm Spellcheck didn't catch that comm!**

**Goldenpuppies: They didnt forget...and conflict is coming, but not about that!**

**Invaderoperaghost: Thank you!**

The pathways he led her down this time were not rough, but smooth hallways of stone. A musty smell lingered here, stirred up by their haste. Once they reached the end of the hall, Christine knew exactly where she was - she was staring into her room. Thinking he had tricked her, she spun on her heel and glared at Erik, opening her mouth to let out her anger, but his swift gloved hand was quicker than she - holding his hand over her mouth, he gave her his instructions.  
"Go in, and layer a few dresses on yourself. No bags, no luxuries - just clothes. Wear as many as you can, but also be sure you can still run decently. I'll be waiting."  
"You'll wait here - outside the two way mirror?" she whispered in horror. He let out a low chuckle.  
"My back will be turned all the while." he said lightly.  
"Promise?"  
An amused smile tugged at his lips. "I promise. Now go; you have little time. Make sure the door is locked." he said, and even before she reached the other side of the mirror, his back was turned.  
Feeling terribly self conscious knowing that he was on the other side of the mirror made her dress as quickly as possible. She put on her Don Juan costume - it was light and thin, easy to wear under clothing. On top of that she out on a long, flowing light black dress. Then, spotting a blue dress that was Meg's from her old wardrobe, she put it on, knowing that Meg's dresses were larger than her own. Meg would never miss it; she only wore these plain dresses before she became Populaire's latest diva.  
After that, she tied her hair with a black silk ribbon and ran back to the mirror, where Erik stood, still with his back to her.  
"Are you quite finished yet?" he asked softly.  
"Yes."  
He turned around only a bit, and held out his hand. "Come, we have much farther to go before dawn."

Brisk, chilly wind blew into Christine's face as once again they reconnected with the rest of the world. Much to her surprise, she saw that the sun was sinking quickly in the sky.  
Just as he said, Erik had brought them to the stables.  
"What now?" Christine asked softly, looking around cautiously.  
"I took this fine stallion before; I don't believe they'll be missing him too terribly." Erik replied, stroking a black horse. Next to that horse stood a pure white one - Cesar, another horse Erik had taken once. Some how they had gotten it back - and in better shape than he had been before, though that part was kept silent.  
"Come, it's nearing twilight. If we're lucky, we'll have night to cloak us in secret. Until then, we must ride hard and fast, not letting anyone take a second look at us. You'll sit in front - that way you can hide their view of my mask." He said, already saddling the horse with great care. But then he stopped, bent down, just about to fasten a buckle, when he looked up into her eyes. "Christine, are you sure about your choice? There will be no going back after we begun...unless I say it. You'll be under my control; are you sure this is what you want?"  
Christine smiled. "You mean, this is the point of no return?"  
Erik looked away, but was unsuccessful in hiding the coy, yet sheepish grin that tugged at his lips.  
Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached up and touched his cheek, gently making his face turn towards her once again. In confusion he stared at her, awaiting what she'd do or say next. Staring into his eyes, she whispered with more passion than she originally intended to, "We're already passed the point of no return. Erik...when I said I love you...I gave you my heart. I meant it. I'll follow you to the depths of hell if need be."  
"But my dear, you already have." He replied back, then leapt onto the horse with ease. As she slid into the saddle in front of him and they started a quiet trot, she was left to ponder what he meant by those words. She was riding with her angel that she knew and loved, yet, even if it was slightly still unknown to her, she was riding with a man that was nearly a stranger. No one, after all, could be an angel and a murderous man at the same time, now could they?  
A chill ran down Christine's spine, though she couldn't decide if it was because of the night breeze or the cold thoughts that now dwelt in her mind.

Down alleyways and passed tall village homes they galloped at break neck speed, going so fast that the world simply seemed quite the blur to the sleepy Christine that bobbed up and down on the horse as she rode side saddle, nothing holding her on except her grasp about Erik's back and his own firm arm around her waist as he guided the swift horse. Surely they'd have to stop this, or the horse would be dead in a few hours, but still the continued on.  
Christine looked up at the night sky. Oh, it was beautiful! Void of all clouds, the sky stretched out before her like a black velvet blanket, thousands of diamond like stars blinking, scattered across it. The full moon led the way, giving the horse a pathway for it's wild hoofs to gallop upon. Had this been a leisurely night, she would have deemed it the perfect evening. But this...no, this was far from perfect. Christine was fleeing everything she had ever known, every possession and true friend she had ever known...with the exception of one...  
She glanced up at her angel's face, now all too real as lines of wary and fatigue settled in on his forehead and under his eyes. He remained emotionless and blank, as if this meant nothing to him; as if he was out for a stroll to clear his whirling thoughts, instead of being the target of a manhunt...a monster hunt. How could he stay so calm and poised at a time like this? What was he thinking of? Was he of clear mind, blocking all unwanted thoughts? Or was he thinking only of her - fearing what might be ahead, but hiding it as to not alarm her.  
Either way, she wished she could ask him, to break the long silence that stood stiffly between them, despite the fact that they were so close to each other. Yet something in the way he looked made it known to her that she was not to ask anything of him yet. Not yet...

Christine fell asleep after not too long, and lost consciousness of everything that was happening, though she had a feeling she missed little. The next morning she vaguely remembered stopping to rest the horse by a river for it to drink. Christine slept on the tall grass during this. She remembered something covering her...a cape? Thinking it silly to presume such a thing, she shook her head, trying to clear the thought. But then something else dwelt in it's place...the angel that she once thought she knew...was he still in Erik? Hidden deep down?  
Why did it seem he acted so cold and detached from her if just days ago he promised that he loved her? He loved her, that much she was positive of. But she could always spot that weakness in his eyes before - but now that seemed to be missing. Whenever she gazed into his eyes, they were blank, like an locked iron door that stood as a barrier to anyone who tried to see his emotions within. But why?  
She longed to ask him, but even now she knew that in doing so it would be her undoing, even if she didn't fully understand why.   
"I am surprised, Christine - I didn't know any woman could sleep as you did through the night." Erik said suddenly, extending his hand to help her from the long, soft grass that had served as her bed. She looked at him, frightened and confused. "Why? How did I sleep?"  
"Heavily!" He nearly laughed as he said this. "Why, we made four stops last night - poor thing here needed resting badly after our flight. Every hour or so we had to stop. So, I'd gather you in my arms, slide of the horse, and find a soft place for you to sleep at while I built a fire to keep you warm. And then, when the horse was well rested, I'd gather you in my arms once more and ride on. Just once during the night did you stir during that whole ordeal. Have you always slept so sound?"  
Christine blushed. "Only recently...I have been getting very little sleep - so when I do, I suppose I sleep heavily. Forgive me for causing you all the trouble."  
But Erik just let out a hint of a grin. "Nonsense, my lady - a pleasure to serve you." He said, then walked away to prepare the horse while Christine wondered if that had been genuine, or of pure mock.


	11. Chapter 11

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They rode off at dawn, after sharing half a loaf of bread that had been shoved in a saddlebag when Christine wasn't looking. She was once again plunged intp an uneasy silence, which made the ride even more unbearable. She started to wonder if she should have come at all - for it seemed that the man riding with her considered her hardly more than a nuisence! Hurt welled in her as these unwelcomed thoughts dwelled in her mind, making her shift uneasily in his grip.  
After what was surely a good many hours of riding, Erik looked up at the sky, as if drifting out of a deep daydream. "It must be near noon time, judging by the sun. we'll stop and eat right up here."  
Soon he slowed the horse down and jumped off, then helped her. Grabbing hold of the reins again, he lead the horse to a wide river in this open valley that he had chosen. Shedding the reins and saddle, Erik let the horse drink, than came to sit beside Christine, seemingly taking great care as to not sit too close. He retrieved the rest of their bread supply and split in it half, and handed her portion to her. But she was fuming inside as she watched him eat. His silence, his eyes staring at the outstretching land before them, not even trying to sneak a glance at her, only added fuel to the fire that was already burning deep down. Finally, she couldn't stand her silence anymore.   
"What's wrong with me?" She cried out, desperate for him to notice her. Notice her he did - startled too. He looked at her with wide eyes, his head slightly cocked to the side.  
"Excuse me?" He asked, almost in a whisper.  
"Well surely you must see something wrong with me! You act as if I'm not here - or you wish I wasn't. How is that supposed to make me feel? And then the memory of your words - that you really didn't want me here at all...was that for more than just my safety, Erik? Did you really not want me to come? Was that night that you told me you loved me false? Were you only caught in the moment, because I was the first woman who has ever admitted to loving you? Do you really not love me in turn? Was it just infatuation? Having fun solely because of the great competition? Was I just another thing you could win just to prove that you could beat whomever you wish? Do I really mean nothing to you? And I really that unwanted?" The words flooded out of her mouth. She had kept to her silence too long; too many thoughts had bore into her mind, twisting her original thoughts, making her doubt the man she thought she loved so truly.  
Erik was obviously taken aback. Even though he had acted so strange to her, it was clear that he did not understand why she would say such things. Were his acts unintentional? Why would they be?  
"Christine...please, never again think that you are unwanted. Never, ever could you be that. What I said that night...Christine, I do not say things lightly. I mean what I say. I admit, I haven't been acting the way you must expect me to. For that, I am sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you, you must know that. I suppose...I suppose my more...nonromantical side...tends to get the better of me. Perhaps you could say...my logical side? But please promise me that you will never think you are unwanted when you are in my presence again. No matter how long we are together, that thought of yours will never be true on my part." He said with such feeling that it brought tears to Christine's eyes and sent them coursing down her cheeks. He gave her one more meaningful glance as she wordlessly nodded, then he walked away to go ready the horse.  
But that glance was all she needed. She understood. He was distancing himself from her. Not incase he'd have to send her back, but in case she would leave him, like so many had done to him in the past she knew too little about. He was afraid of being hurt by her - and that would mean the destruction of him unless he lessened his need for her. That's why he never called her 'my dear' anymore. That's why he didn't meet her eyes; because that plan of his was failing quickly.  
Christine shrugged as she stood up and wiped the crumbs from her skirt. She'd just have to prove her loyalty to him - she'd have to assure him that she'd never leave, no matter what would happen to her. No matter how great the risks. No matter what...he was with her, and she with him - and that's how it would stay from now on.

Erik's hands reached down to help her onto the horse. She wrapped her hands around this upper arms as he lifted her and got her settled before him in the saddle. She stared into his eyes as he looked straight ahead, putting the horse in a gentle trot to warm him up. His eyes were simular to what they had been before, but now there was a little light shining in them. She had broken a small piece of armor from his heart; started making him believe that she was in this for the long run - and that she wouldn't run away...at least run away from him.  
But there was still that same defense up. It was a long rode she had in front of her, but she was more than eager to travel it, for she could already glimpse and see what rewards she would be able to reap once that trial was over.  
Erik's sudden gruff voice startled her. "We'll be reaching a small town by nightfall. We'll stay at a little boarding house there. We'll have to stock up on food as well. And you'll have a warm bed to sleep in."  
Christine smiled up at him, laying her head gently, slowly, lightly on his chest. A warm feeling flooded her heart. He had answered all her questions with those few sentences. He cared for her, he was looking out for her. He was loving her. In his own inexperienced way, he was loving her. 

They were cloaked in a peaceful twilight as they entered the small, sleepy town. It's cobble streets made the horse's hoofs clop beautifully. In Christine's sleepy haze, it seemed the perfect little place. A nice place to live...shame they had to move on.  
At a two story building, with wide double wood doors, Erik stopped his horse. A young boy that had watched their ascent to the boarding house now walked towards them. Erik huddled close to Christine, trying to keep at least half of his face hidden from view.  
"Shall I take your horse to the stables, Monsieur; Madame?" The sandy-blonde haired boy asked.  
"Yes, thank you." Erik said to him in a hoarse voice. Christine felt something cold in her hand. She opened it to find two coins. "Give it to the boy." Erik whispered in her ear.  
Christine, with a sweet smile, handed the boy the coins. A grateful smile spread over his lips as he thanked them profusely, then took the horse's reins and led him around the building.  
"Christine...get that cane. See it? By the door? That will help with the act." Erik whispered again. With his arm around her waist, she walked over to the door and grabbed the cane, which he held in his hand but did not use. Then they went inside.  
It was a rustic looking room, with roughly two dozen people in it; eating, dancing, relaxing by the open fire. But the pair instead made their way to the desk.  
"Now, we need two rooms and a meal. You'll pay with this." Erik said and put a leather pouch in her hand, filled with coins. "If it isnt enough, I have more."  
Christine tried to hide her surprised look, as well as not think about where he had obtained that money.  
"Two rooms for the night, please." She said to the lady at the desk, handing over the money. The woman eagerly counted it, then nodded.  
"You both are in great luck. We have just two rooms left. They aren't very close together, but you'll see that they'll fit your accommodations quite well, I believe." and with that, the woman took two keys off little hooks on the wooden wall, and led them up tp the stairs. Erik's grasp on Christine was fiercely tight, so much that she could hardly breath. Did men like Erik get nervous? Christine had to wonder that. Apparently so, or at least that's what her abdomen was telling her. 


	12. Chapter 12

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Up the stairs took them to the first door, which the woman unlocked and opened. "This is the first room. Second is this way." she said, then led them all the way down the long hallway, until reaching the last door, which that too she unlocked.  
"Would you be liking any food this evening?" The woman asked before leaving.  
"Yes please." Christine replied.  
"We'll be eating in here." Erik added, then led Christine hurriedly into the room. Once in, he shut the door and locked it again. As he was breathing hard from relief, Christine was too, holding her stomach.  
"Did I hurt you? Forgive me, I did not know." Erik said, his eyes lowered.  
"No, no, I'm fine. Hungry, but fine." Christine said with a sweet smile. Erik looked relieved as he put his cane near the door and walked over to the table that was in the middle of the room. He sat so that his mask was away from the door, and kept the lights low just in case.  
Within a few minutes, the door opened, and Christine rushed to get the food. She thanked the woman, then gently kicked the door closed as she carried a large silver tray to the table.  
To Christine's hungry eyes, what she held looked like a royal feast, when, in reality, it was nothing more than slug-looking stew, bread and butter, and a few slabs of salted pork for each. A small bottle of cheap wine accompanied this.  
Erik poured out the wine into wineglasses as Christine handed him his soup and platter. They ate in silence for a few minutes, just staring at each other. There was little to say, it seemed, now that they had gotten so much off of their minds. But finally, Erik found something to small talk over.  
"Downstairs seemed a success - no one noticed. I suppose I'm lucky I have someone with such a full head of hair to ride with me. Although, you realize, this is how it will have to be for possibly the rest of our lives. I don't blend in very easily, you could say."  
Christine gave him a weak grin. "Well, I suppose it's good then, that I'll be with you for the rest of my life." She said, pulling her hair back over her shoulders.  
Erik looked up at her, clearly surprised. Was he still so not used to such talk? Talk of commitment; loyalty; love?  
"When shall we leave tomorrow?" Christine asked, hoping for conversation he would not shy away from.  
"Early, at dawn."  
"Will we be able to buy more food?"  
"With luck we shall. If it's not busy downstairs."  
"If it is?"  
"We'll find somewhere else."  
Christine looked away, biting her lip, her fingers playing in a lock of her hair. Timidly, she looked into his eyes and said, "Erik...where are we going?"  
He bowed his head and put more food into his mouth, as if he didn't hear her. Something had told her he'd do that - she had overstepped her boundaries. Some things just needed their own time to be asked; others need to be told, not questioned. What she just said was of the latter - if Erik ever decided to tell her.

Christine was startled awake by knocking. Looking out her window, she saw the sky a misty grey, not yet dawn. Sleepily, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she managed to drag herself to the door and open it slightly to reveal Erik standing there, his hand over his mask.  
"Get ready to leave. I'll come back in a few minutes so we can get started. We'll eat along the way."  
True to his word, Erik was knocking only a few minutes later. Christine only had time to quickly brush out her mass of curls and try to wash some of the dirt spots on her dress. Grabbing her boots and shoving her feet in them, she hobbled to the door.  
"I'm ready." Christine said, tying up the last boot.  
"Good, because it's going to start getting busy now. Come along." Erik said, putting her in front of him as they walked slowly and carefully down the stairs. It was crowded in the little room, so they kept going.   
"Where will we get food now?" Christine asked him once they were on their horse and riding away.  
"We have left overs from last night, and breakfast was served early this morning. I brought it with, do not worry. I wont let you starve, Christine - even if it means I must."  
She was quiet for a few minutes, but then started back up. "Where are we headed?'  
" Another small town is not very far from here. My hopes are to make it there by nightfall."  
"Where will we go after that?"  
"To more small towns to refill our food supply until we reach our destination."  
"And what is our destination, Erik?"  
But still he refused to say. Biting her lip, Christine refrained from saying more. 

They sat by a stream, surrounded by high grass and beautiful country. Erik had taken out an apple for each of them, as well as the left over salted pork that he had packaged so it would stay fresh while in the leather pouches. Christine stared over at the horse, peacefully grazing, not aware of any danger that may have been following. So far, the pair had been extremely lucky - not even a sight of any officers. Christine could only pray that their luck would hold out long enough to get...well, to where ever they were going.  
Her gaze moved from the horse and settled on Erik. He was lost in thought as he slowly ate his apple, staring into the stream as it shimmered in the noon sun. Desperate to strike up a conversation and to learn more about him, Christine said, "Madame Giry once told me that she brought you to the Opera House when you were only twelve. Said you lived there ever since. Is that true?"  
Erik didn't look at her, but took a deep breath, seeming as if he was silently cursing the old woman.  
"It is." He replied simply.  
"Well...what about before that? Where did you come from? How did she find you? How did you live?" Christine asked, encouraged now that he had answered a question. But these words fell on deaf ears. He kept looking into the river, eating his apple more quickly now, acting as if he hadn't heard her. Well, it wasn't the first time he had done that.  
As soon as he finished, he threw the core of the fruit as far as he could, then went to ready the horse.  
"Hurry and finish - we have a long way to go if we are to reach that town by tonight." He said over his shoulder.  
Christine sat, slowly picking at his food. When would he open up to her? Had she not shown that he could trust her enough? When could he find that he could confide in her? For his sake as well as hers, she hoped it would be soon.


	13. Chapter 13

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True to his word, Erik got them to the small village just as the moon was really starting to shine bright. This hotel was much more crowded than the other, much to Erik's dismay. They were set up in two rooms once again, this time right next to each other. Supper was eaten, food was put away to later be stored in the saddlebags, and once again they crawled into their separate hotel beds.  
But just because the night went soundly, it didn't mean their departure would...  
Erik, being the light sleeper that he was, awoke at the sound of the downstairs main door being pounded upon, faintly heard through his floorboards.  
Lighting a candle, he pulled out his pocketwatch and saw that it was three-thirty in the morning. Who would possibly be coming into a crowded, filled hotel at this time of the night?  
But Erik found it impossible to fall back to sleep, now that his curiosity was aroused. He carefully opened his heavy wooden door and crept silently out; his years as being an Opera Ghost finally paying off - sneaking around without any one noticing just happened to be his specialty.  
Down the first few steps he walked, managing to miss every creak. He went down just enough to be able to peek down and listen to what was said.  
"Please go away - we are full!" The hotel owner yelled through the door.  
"Police - open up, sir."  
The door swung open as Erik's heart launched into his throat. Yet his feet refused to move.  
"What's wrong, good sirs? I assure you, there is nothing ill going on here."  
"It is not your hotel in question. It's your boarders."  
"My boarders? Whom?"  
"Christine Daae is the woman; Erik Destler is the man. The two are very hard to miss. Christine Daae worked at the Opera Populaire, an Opera singer. Long, curly brunette hair; brown eyes. Not too tall, very beautiful. We have but a sketching of her, here. The man is more easier to spot - tall, dark haired...a white mask covers the side of his face. The woman may look frightened, perhaps forced to be with the man. We are not sure what is going on, but it's of strong suspicion he has her captive."  
Erik laughed. Of course he captured her - how could anyone believe that he was actually capable of loving; of being loved in return? After all...how long had he believed the same?  
Erik stood up again, regaining the use of his legs. He quietly ran up the steps and down the hall, knocking as hard but as quiet as possible, hoping beyond hope that Christine would awake. Why hadn't he kept her key?  
Christine did answer, but was utterly confused in her half awakened state when he grabbed her and threw her back inside the room.  
"Get your shoes on - now! Hurry, Christine!" He said as she gaped at him.  
"But why? It is still night!"  
"Officers, a flood of them, stand right below your feet. They know we are near here - they're checking the rooms; so I heard when I was trying to awake you."  
Once her shoes were on, he shoved open the window and climbed out, helping her out as well. Thankfully, they were surrounded by trees to guide them to the ground from the second floor, and in the back of the hotel to help them escape. They ran to the stables just as the police started to run all over the hotel in pursuit. Saddling the horse and riding off at a slow walk, the two made their way into the distant woods. Once out of earshot, they started a full gallop, running at a breakneck speed; Erik always picturing the police in his mind, fearing what he'd have to do if they caught up with him. This only made him kick the horse harder.

As he rode hard, Erik kept glancing down at Christine. He hadn't explained what he heard; instead, tried to forget it. But she didn't. Just forcing her out suddenly seemed to have scared her to death. He could see it from everything she did - her wide brown eyes, full of worry and fret. Her ridged body refusing to relax against his and the horse's, making the ride all the more unbearable. The way she breathed so shallowly. The way her hands clenched into fists, then released to nervously pick over and over at an object, something different each time. As he gazed quickly upon her now, he saw that she chose a lock of her hair to twirl around her fingers, just to release it and let the curl bounce back to it's normal shape before she grabbed it again. She was scared.  
Christine had grown so much while he was away. Raoul's absence had allowed her to grow, when while he was shadowing her, she stayed the little girl that he had known and loved. She was so easily spooked back then - seemingly afraid of her own shadow if it snuck up too quickly upon her. She had been so confused...wanting to stay that child that Raoul had knew so well, yet wanting desperately to grow and flourish into what Erik was trying to shape her in, as if she was clay in his musical hands. He wasn't only teaching her to sing for all those years, but trying to teach her how to live, to grow, to love. To move on from the tragic death of her so beloved father, even though it was he, himself, that prolonged that. And in doing such, all of it, she remained confused, unsure of what to do because everyone wanted something different; demanding something from her, even if she didn't know if she could give it. She had so many people on her all the time - Madame Giry, the managers from the Populaire, Meg, Carlotta, whom hated her with a passion, Raoul, the spirit of her father that lived within her. And Erik. All had led to her whirlwinds of constant state of utter confusion.  
But then Raoul faded from her life, Erik torn from it, Meg too busy to pay much attention, Madame Giry too heartbroken to look at her, Managers not caring for a girl that looked like a broken china doll; beautiful in every way, yet too broken to be of use. Somehow, through that brokeness, she had found herself. Not the person that others wanted her to be, but the person she truly was. She had grown into a woman in full bloom until she was where she is today - beautiful inside and out, good at all she does, and full of confidence, sure footed, proud.  
So why did she look so defeated now? Had what he done - allowed her to come with him, though it was she begged - been the cause for an erosion of all her hard work? Were her newfound emotions and strong points being stripped away as they rode farther and farther from everything she knew? Was he, instead of nurturing her as he always wanted to do, now being the cause of her slow destruction?  
His heart lurched in his chest at his accusions that he rained upon himself.

By the break of dawn, they were resting in a valley, the horse calming down after his harsh run. Even a young stallion couldn't keep up with the harsh urging of Erik's kicks all night long. But Erik was only thinking of Christine, his mind still not letting himself rest on this issue.  
One thing kept screaming in his mind, all his senses, his intuition, his everything, kept telling him to force her to go back home and forget about their crazy plan. Why did he let her continue to think everything would work out when he knew it wouldn't? It wasn't sane to keep going on with this! He was living in a dream, terrified if he said one wrong word or did one thing wrong that this dream would shatter. Officers didn't matter. Murders didn't matter. Every mistake in his life all piled together, stuck together with old guilt no longer mattered to him. Only this dream that he continued to nurture and love mattered now. Even though he knew, one day, he'd have to break away before Christine was hurt once again by him. And something kept telling him that it should be soon. Soon he'd have to set her free. He'd break her heart one last time, and give her another chance at living out the life of every normal girl. Meg would guide her in the right direction, he was sure. Madame Giry would be there, to help out of memory of him. Christine exceeded Meg all too well - the managers would take her under their wing once more in a heartbeat, he knew all too well of all of this.  
Now all he needed to do was to let her go...


	14. Chapter 14

**Invaderoperaghost: Forgive me for the grammical errors! This was the first phic I ever wrote a few months back. I dont even have a copy it on my harddrive - I'm getting it from a forum that I posted it on, and just download it in to wordpad and on to here. When I get a moment, I'd like to go back and edit out all the mistakes, but I am too busy with my newer phics to be able to do such at the moment, so I apologize! **

**Erimysweet: Hey EMS! LOL. Sorry I didn't get to keep up with your phic yet - I'm 2 chapters behind, but I'm heading over to catch up today!**

**Freakstar: As always, i love to hear from you!**

The day passed and went; night fell once again. When Erik set her on her feet once again, she nearly fell over. Her legs were aching terribly, as was her back and neck. How much more could her body take?  
Seeing she was ready to collapse, Erik took her arm and guided her to some trees, where she slid down to a sitting position and leaned against one.  
As Erik cared for the horse, Christine watched him. She wondered if her body would ever work normally again after this; yet he walked as if the ride had been a mere stroll through the park. He tried to keep face that nothing was wrong, yet she could see right through it. Something was really bothering him, more then before. And then there was that way he kept looking back at her, as if to see if she was really there, acting surprised that she hadn't run off yet.  
She understood why, but it still hurt. She hadn't given him any reason to trust her before this journey begun, nor had anyone else in this life. Why should he put all this trust in her? She knew, but logic never could heal a wounded heart.  
"Why do you refuse to trust in me?" Christine cried out to him.  
Erik whirled around from what he was doing to look baffled at her.  
"Excuse me?" he asked her.  
She looked angrily at him. Must he always reply to her like that? Could he never just understand right away?  
"Why? I admit, I am impulsive. I do things without thinking sometimes. But always, when I agree to do something, do I mean it with all my heart. Erik, ten thousand wild horses could drag me by my arms this second all the way back to Paris; a hundred guards and officers lock me behind the strongest steel bars in existence, and yet I'd still find a way to get back to you. Do you not know that yet?"  
"Perhaps, but I would think, Christine, that it's more likely it would be me behind those strong steel bars; not you." He responded.  
"But there's a whole world out here - land that goes on forever! We can run, we can go far, where they'll never find us!" Christine said, desperate to put hope back into him.  
"You'd be surprised how small this world seems when you've been out in it for a while." He said, in a tone that meant to say their conversation was over. But then, as he was walking away from her, he muttered harshly, "Gypsies."  
"What?"  
"You asked what I did,how Madame Giry found me. I was traveling behind bars, in a cage not fit for any beast. Yet I lived there for years. Horror stories like you've never even imagined could I tell you from just my experiences over three years." he got quieter then, as if he talked only to himself. "A cage; my eternal cage. Still forced to hide from shame and humiliation. Still forced to use my gifted talents as amusement for idiot minds. Still forced to live a life full of haunted tomorrows." He sat back down by the stream, staring into it as if all the cures to his life miseries were tangled in the rushing waters.  
Christine sat down beside him, looking at him with mix emotions. Wordlessly, she tried to figure out how she'd ever be able to help cure his tortured soul.

Christine drifted in and out of restless sleep. Each time her eyes opened, she saw Erik pacing by the fire. Did he never sleep? She'd listen to his never ending murmurings for a few moments until they lulled her into yet another fitful sleep.  
Upon awakening once she did find something she thought quite unusual. Cushioning her head from the rough grass, was a black soft material. Erik's beloved cape was nestled below her.  
A warm feeling flowed into her, despite the chilly night. What puzzled her though, was why would he be so kind and caring when could not know, but during the day he took on a more formal front; put up a wall to rid of any emotions he might show her. Why? It was yet just another question to pile upon the other unanswered ones.

"If we must stay away from towns, where are we going?" Christine asked as they rode in the late afternoon sun the next day.  
"We ride through the forest until we reach our destination."  
"I suppose you will still refuse to tell me where that destination is?"  
She was right, of course, for his lips remained closed, his eyes focused on what was before them. No answer, no mutterings now. Just silence that she was trying to get used t o and kept failing at.

Another night. Christine fell quickly asleep, exhausted from the long day. Sleep stopped the aching in her body, let her be in peace for a short while.  
But sleep did not guide her all the way through the night. Rather, it deserted her only part way through.  
Stars shown brightly above her as she laid in the grass, the black cape neatly folded under her head. She looked over and saw Erik, once again, pacing by the fire. But this time, he was not muttering. Instead, he was speaking aloud without realizing it.  
"Shamed into solitude; shunned by the multitude. I learned to listen. In my dark, my heart heard music. I yearned to teach the world; rise up and reach the world - no one would listen. I alone, could hear the music. Then at last, a voice from the gloom, seemed to cry, I hear you! I hear your fears...your torment and your tears. She saw my loneliness, shared in my emptiness. No one would listen...no one but her...heard as the outcast hears." With that, Erik paused, seemingly in deep thought. His voice was gruff with overwhelming emotion.  
"No one would listen...no one but her...heard as the outcast hears..."He repeated, this time so soft, he seemed not to say the words, but to breath them.  
Christine laid, stunned at what she had overheard. All this time she had been doubting if he truly, deeply cared. Realization hit her. She had known all along what he felt - she could always tell. She always did tell herself that he really did love her. But to hear it from his own lips at a time like this?  
Tears streamed heavily down her face as she stared at him, her head a few inches off of her make-shift pillow. The words that he had said, and truly meant, whirled in her head. He was right about her there. And he knew about it. He knew she had seen his loneliness, and shared in that herself. She saw his empiness, and inside, mirrored that too. She mirrored all his emotions, as he did with her. They were one, like he had always said...  
" I am the mask you wear"  
"It's me they hear."  
"You're spirit and my voice, in one combined..."  
She realized, more at that moment than any other before, that she truly did belong with him, beside him, never to desert him. They went together, her and him. People called him a monster, a sight not to behold in any light or darkness. They said she was a shining diva, born for the stage. So different in other's eyes, yet so alike when turned inside out. Their hearts seemed to be mixed into one, as to feel the same as the other.  
Suddenly, she came back into the present and noticed that Erik wasn't moving. Rather, he was staring right at her. Christine's cheeks, neck, and his cape were now soaked with tears that she had been unaware of. Had she cried so much?  
She didn't care. Standing up on wobbly legs, she walked slowly to him. She took his large, gloved hands into hers as she stared into his deep green eyes. With the sky, dazzled with thousands of diamond stars behind him, he did remind her of an angel...her angel. A wonderfully warm feeling filled her as he stared back into her eyes. He seemed vulnerable, his heart right on the surface. He was completely exposed after what he had said, and what she had overheard. But yet, he did not turn away.  
"How strange...how much we have in common." Christine whispered, as if scared she'd break this amazing spell they seemed to be drawn under if she would talk too loudly, or not soft enough.  
He just stared at her, his chest rising and falling more slowly, as if he was trying to fill empty lungs.  
"Erik, please, for me, stop looking on the pessimistic side. Stop waiting for something horrible to happen. Let down that guard. Take down the wall between us." She whispered so lightly she wondered how he could have heard her at all. Where had her voice gone?  
"Christine...you know what will happen sooner or later. You know they'll catch up to us one day. We can not hide forever. And our horse...I fear I drive him to his death."  
"What you say may very well be true. But Erik, must we live in sorrow now? Can we not deal with that when it comes? Let us dwell in the good for now! When we run, let us not be running away, but chasing wild dreams. When we sleep on harsh grass, let us dream of one day being able to own a home together. Let us enjoy this time together now. While we can..."  
"But Christine..."  
"Yes, when...if something bad happens, we'll know what we are missing. But wont memories be better then never knowing? Than always having to wonder what it might have been like if we...if we acted how we felt, instead of always having to have our defenses up?"  
Tears came wildly down her cheeks now as Erik looked at her with a tortured and confused look.  
"Please Erik...stop treating me like unwanted baggage."  
"If I didn't stop...would you go back? Back to the Opera?" He said instead.  
Christine was momentarily surprised, but answered anyway. "Is that what all of this is about? You want me to go back? You're testing me to see if I will leave you like everyone else always has?"  
Erik shut his eyes, breathing deeply. When he opened his eyes again, they were full of tears. "I fear for you. This is not the life you were meant to have."  
"I don't care!" she screamed suddenly, making him look quite taken aback. "Why must everyone try to tell me what I should be, and what I should be doing? Can I not decide for myself?"  
So he had been right...she had so much weighing upon her shoulders from so many telling her what she must do. Wasn't this just what he didn't want to do to her?  
"I only want the best for you, Christine, but I wont stop you from doing what you think you must."  
"But will you accept it?"  
He stared back into her burning eyes, full of questions. "If that's what you want of me."  
"It is."  
"Then I can not deny you of your request...there is little I could deny you, Christine."  
She quickly looked away. Why must he remind her of that? She hated to think of him as a lowly dog, begging for love, for someone to care for him. He had told her before that he only ever wanted her love, and in return, he'd give her anything she could ever want. Anything he was capable of. But must he say it like that? To make her feel like she's gracing him with her presence, and that he didn't truly deserve it. He deserved so much more than she could give him.  
She looked slowly back at him, her head bowed and slightly cocked to the side. It was his eyes now that seemed to reign fire upon her, awaiting next what she would say, what she would do. Testing her...challenging her...to what? To do something wrong? To say ' I told you so'? What did he expect her to do?  
"Why must things be so confusing?" she whispered in desperation.  
"That's what love is, my dear. It's made up of more emotions than you ever knew you possessed. And then they all turn into one..."  
Confusion. But she didn't want confusion! She wanted what every other happy couple had. Why didn't she?  
"I was wrong." Erik said slowly after a long pause.  
Her brows knitted again in confusion, she stared at him, urging him to continue.  
"I can not give you all you want. I have denied you so much. Christine, I can not give you your eternal happiness. I cant give you faithfulness...not when we live like this. I cant give you stability. These things you thrive on. I can not give them to you."  
She shook her head. "I don't thrive on those things...always, ever since I can remember, I've only needed one thing to make me thrive. All I've ever needed was you."  
Had that sounded too much like one of her fairytales? Had she overdone it when she had only spoken the truth? It had leapt from her lips before she could even think, but she knew where it came from...and apparently, he did too.  
Before she could even realize what was happening, she found herself in his arms, wrapped in a kiss like she had never known before. It was the kiss of a tormented love that refused to die.


	15. Chapter 15

Feeling self-conscious and embarrassed, Erik busied himself. "Supper...you must be starved." He said lightly as he walked away.

Christine just stood there, her head cocked and spinning, feeling so confused, though her heart was soaring. How could a simple kiss stir so much emotion within?

Though she tried to push it away, the thought of Raoul came to mind. Why had she never experienced that with him? With all her sixteen year old heart, she thought she loved him. Yet never had she felt the deep feelings she was now. The deep feelings that made her sure in every way just how much she loved her musical angel.

She watched as Erik got food out of the pouches, his back turned towards her. Suddenly, she heard something from behind her, but before she could turn, an arm was around her shoulder, and something glistening and hard was at her throat. Letting out an involuntary scream, Christine backed into whomever was holding her, trying to get the sharp blade of the rusted dagger away from her throat.

Erik had heard the piercing scream, and whirled around, dropping their precious food to the ground that he had in his arms, and started to run towards her.

"Uh, you may stop right there, my masked sir." A man's voice said, coming right above Christine's ear. She was trembling terribly, willing her legs to keep her standing.

Erik stopped in his tracks. "Let her go." Was all that he requested in a deep, low voice.

"I'll let 'er go...for a trade." The man said, an evil grin slowly coming to his lips.

"But we have nothing!" Erik exclaimed. "We travel with nothing but what we have on our backs. We have our horse..."

"I don't want your horse! Look at that sorry creature - he's ready to fall over dead. You drove him to his death, a poor innocent creature. But why should that be surprising? What's a lowly horse, when you carelessly murdered so many innocent people?"

Christine saw Erik tense up, his shoulders straighten. "Then what do you want?" He asked, but it was easy to see that he already knew what the man would say.

"You. I'll spare her, let her go free, for you. Surely you must know the huge reward over your heads? It's more money than I could spend in a lifetime; not that I surely wouldn't try. See, I got nothing either, 'cept my own horse here and this beat up ol' wagon. Had ta sell my farm, seeing that I couldn't afford to keep it up. They took away all my animals, everything I had left. My family up and died - got some sickness or other; couldn't afford real doctors. But now, I'm gonna get me a new wife, start a new family, and none of them are ever going to die like my last. I'll have money, now wont I?"

Christine would have found pity for him under different circumstances, but not now. But neither said a word to the man, just stood there, trying to let their minds comprehend what was happening to their perfect dream; watching it shatter before their eyes.

"A trade then, or no?" The man persisted.

"What if I don't trade?" Erik asked, making Christine tremble more. She trusted him with her life, but it chilled her blood to hear him ask such a thing.

"Well, I think you could guess. Course, I'd probably need to take that half dead horse of mine, seein' in don't want to ruin mine just for a dead body to haul back to Paris."

"You wouldn't kill her." Erik said, trying to call his bluff.

"Wouldnt I?"

"The reward-"

"Is for dead or alive. And if she's dead, I could make it up to be that you kidnaped her and then were her murderer; which would raise the amount of money for you. Then I could find you once more - and there I have it - all the money. Course, that might be suspicious, just happening to know where you are twice. But you don't have to worry none for my sake. I could always keep her alive, and tell all of Paris the truth about her. About how this lovely songbird aint as sweet as everyone wants to think. I could just tell them how she left her valiant Vicomte to pursue a criminal's life, following her true love...a murdering 'phantom'. I suppose you could also guess what her life would be like - when they find out what she did; helped such a monster. And I'd make sure the rich Vicomte wouldn't be able to set her free."

"But you had it right the first time. I kidnaped her from the Opera House the night I left." Erik said quickly, his eyes widening.

"Oh yes, I suppose that would be correct, wouldn't it? I mean, any kidnaped person would put their arms around the man that took them away; kiss him; hug him. And the kidnapper would be so quick as to run to her rescue. If she was kidnaped, she'd want you to die. Do you want him to die, madame?" The man said sarcastically. He had seen too much to believe a word Erik said now.

Erik looked at Christine, his heart-stopping green eyes piercing into her with his tortured look. It made her stomach hurt and her heart ache.  
Then Erik turned to the man, nodding slowly. "It's a trade." He said in a low voice.

Christine cried out. "Erik you cant! Don't trade, please! He'll bring you back to Paris - they'll kill you! It's not likely they'll even give you a trial. And even if they did, Madame Giry would never tell all her secrets. She wont stand up for you - not with Meg being the led opera singer, for it would ruin Meg's reputation. Blood is thicker than water, Erik! Even if she did the right thing, who would listen? You'll be shot, or hanged...tortured." She said frantically, then adding in a lower, sad voice, "Erik...please!"

But he ignored her. Every once in a while he met her eyes, but still said nothing to her plea. Both of them knew what he had to do, but Christine's mind, heart, soul - everything in her was screaming to help him, to somehow get both of them out of this. But it was no use, and there was no escape.  
"Let her go first." Erik said before giving himself up.

"You think I am a fool?" the man said, as if offended. "You think I know nothing of how you're the world's greatest magician?"

"Give me your word, a solid vow, that you'll release her and not harm her if I trade."

"Swear on my grave, as well as my families. Satisfied?"

"No. If I do this, I want you to swear that you'll say nothing about Christine; that she was not kidnaped."

"I think you forget who makes the rules around here; and who has this sharp dagger against the woman's throat." the man said. Erik said not another word.

Christine was shifted into the man's other arm, releasing her of his other arm, but still, she could not get away. The dagger was pressing even harder into her skin, so that it hurt her, stinging her. She kept blinking hard, trying to ward off a fainting spell she could feel coming on. But if she was to faint, to move just half an inch lower from her knees giving out, she knew it would be fatal.

"So, the great Phantom of the Opera Populaire has a name? Erik...strong name...shame it's wasted on such a beast." The man said, picking up on Christine's wasted pleas as he loosly tied Erik's wrists. Erik's face was close to Christine's. He licked his lips, trying to make a plan in his head. Finally, he turned back to her.

"Listen to me, Christine. Find your way into the net town. Just bare to the left through those woods over there. It'll lead you to a small town. Ask around for Nadir - you'll find him there. He knows you. Tell him what you like. And Christine, stay with him until he tells you to go back. He keeps up with the news, he'll know..." He whispered, the last part more to himself than to her. Christine looked at him in horror, knowing what he meant by it - Nadir, whomever he was, would send her back after Erik's execution. It felt like Erik had kicked her when he said those words - she couldn't seem to catch herr breath, and everything hurt her so badly.

When he had finished looping the ropes around, he shoved Christine hard into the ground, making jagged rocks from the field cut into her. She screamed from the sudden rush of pain. Erik had whirled around to see her with wide, angry eyes. He seemed to be shaking all over with fury from the man doing that to her. Even something small that someone did to hurt her, he got so angry about. But wasn't that how it always was?  
The man, ignoring her now, pulled the ropes as tight as he could around Erik's wrists, making him wince in pain. Then the man, making a lasso, wrapped it around Erik's neck, and pulled tight so he couldn't get out of it.

Erik would have laughed, if he was not so furious. He supposed that that's what you call ironic - he killed men many times using a punjab lasso. Now there was one around his own neck.

The man pulled again on the rope around Erik's neck, making him stumble forward. Christine started to cry heavily, seeing him being treated in such a way.

Now, with Erik tied to the wagon like some worthless animal, the man went to his seat in front and started away, leaving Christine laying in the mud, grass and rocks, feeling absolutely nothing of her minor injuries. As soon as the wagon was out of sight, she screamed in anguish as loud as she could, shattering the night's peace.

"Why?" She shouted to the heavens. Those stars that she had admired just minutes ago now seemed to turn from diamonds to glaring eyes, mocking her; watching her helpless form from so high above.

"Why?" She yell again. "He was a good, kind man. He wasn't a monster or beast! Now the officers of Paris shall kill him before the world ever had a chance to realize it; that they rid themselves not of a murderer, but of a unique, wonderful, sensual genius."

She said no more. Instead, she collapsed into the long, wild grass and sobbed until her great weariness and fainting spells took over and gave her sweet relief.

**_I'm not allowed to reply to reviews here anymore, but please keep them coming:)_**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N - sorry for the long cliff hanger! Here's the next chapter:**

"Come now, Christine - you can not sleep all day. You're wearied out from last night, I know...but we got a long day ahead of us." Christine heard, the voice right next to her ear.  
Her eyes fluttered open, greeting the bright light of the morning. She did not look up to see who had said those words to her, too afraid that her hopes would be shattered. But it sounded did like him! Just like him...  
Tears came to her eyes as she felt his breath on her cheek. Looking slowly up, she gasped loudly. It was him! It was Erik! She threw her arms around his neck, wondering if his figure would dissolve away in a fading dream - but he didn't disappear! She cried out in joy, hugging him closer.  
"How? How did you escape?" She asked.   
Erik's eyes were dancing, even when she asked such a question. "You heard him - everyone knows I'm a great magician. No great magician is ever caught off guard." And with that, he slowly pulled back his cape to reveal a thin-handled sword sheathed in leather.   
"But you couldn't possibly have hid that from me while we were riding. How..."  
"Magician." He said with a coy grin.   
"But then where did you get it? I know you didn't have it at the Opera house - you hardly had food."  
"A slight souvenir from the mantel piece from the last hotel. Thought we might need it."   
"How did you...I don't understand. Your escape..."  
"I am a master in many things. This was not the first time I had my life threatened, I assure you. And many people of much greater stature has tried to claim my life, and yet I stand before you today."  
Christine smiled weakly, but it quickly faded into a worried frown. "But how, Erik? Did you...will they find a..."  
"I did what I had to. Do you not understand the fact that he would have kept to his word? He would have came after us again, and that time...he wouldn't be as nice. A man...a man will do anything if he is desperate enough."   
"What if they find him? Will the police know he was..." Somehow, ever since the man had called Erik a beast and a murderer, she could not say the word 'murder'. It was too painful for the both of them.  
"They'll find him a few dozen yards from the dirt road. They'll see that it was an accident that killed him; his horse started to go wild, and the wooden harness of the horse's came loose. He tried to put the strap back on the knob of the wagon. Instead, he lost his footing, and became entangled with the horse's wild hooves." Erik said, emotionless and not meeting her eyes.   
"But the way you did it...will they suspect?"  
"The way it looked how it happened, he'd have many cuts and gashes. One to the neck would not look out of place."  
Christine nodded, looking away. She felt sick to her stomach. The image of what he had described, the foul smell of him behind her, the sharp dagger digging into her neck. She had no mirror, but she knew that it must have left quite the mark. Looking at Erik's own neck, she saw it raw and red; as well as his wrists. She wanted to cry, they looked so painful. Instead, she ripped a piece of her skirt off and dipped it into the river, then came back to Erik. Slowly, she took his hand in hers and gently washed the wounds that seemed to sink into his skin. He winced lightly, showing pain only for a second before he put on an emotionless face.  
"As much as I would love to sit in a peaceful valley as you care for my wounds all day, we really must be going. If we learned nothing last night, we learned that we can no longer only fear just officers. There are many desperate men with hurting families in these areas who will do anything to help them get by. That man whom attacked us was doing what any of them would. We must flee these areas as quickly as possible." Erik said.  
Christine nodded. Finishing washing the visible dirt from the raw spots, she dropped the material and went to help pack the saddle bags again. But as she turned to put them on the horse, her eyes widened. This was not their black horse. Instead, it was a chocolate brown one, with a white star at it's forehead.  
"Erik?" She said, turning her head to him but keeping her eyes glued to the horse.  
"The man was right; we were killing that poor horse. We needed a new one. The man had little money, but he did keep his horse well. He's in excellent shape, a fine breed. We'll have to be easier on this one. If we are, he'll easily last us to our destination."  
As tempted as she was, even opening her mouth to say it, she refused to ask where they were going. She had decided that she didn't care. As long as he was going with her, she would go anywhere.  
"What happened to the old horse?" She asked instead.  
Erik grinned, as if he knew her struggle for silencing her other question. But then the returned to being serious. "I let him free a little farther down the road than where the wagon is. I urged him to keep going. Hopefully he is a distance away now."  
"But wont the police find him?"  
"I'm sure they will, if they are half as good as I give them credit for."  
"But the theater horses...don't they usually..."  
"Have a burned marking on them? Yes, they do. And ours was no exception. They'll know that we stole the horse and had to leave him behind from his condition. Hopefully the horse will be far enough away from the wagon that they wont suspect to hard. Once they find the horse though, they'll nurse him back to health so he'll be just a good as when we took him. He wont die this way, even though a second horse would have helped us immensely."  
She nodded and strapped on the saddlebags. But just as Erik was mounting, he stopped, then looked back at Christine.  
"You should take off that dress." He said softly, looking at it up and down. He didn't meet her eyes, as if afraid to hurt her feelings. Why?  
She looked down and saw it covered in mud and dried blood from the same scrapes and cuts she recieved when she was pushed.  
Nodding, she walked over to the river and carefully took it off, revealing the black dress underneath. Taking off the extra layer seemed to help her to really breath now - that blue dress added quite a few pounds to her slight body.  
By the time it was off, Erik had tied their new horse to the tree again and had built a fire.  
"Throw it to the flames." He said as he crouched by it, feeding it small sticks.  
She stared at it for a moment, not quite wanting to give it up. It was her last tie with Meg. But she knew if anyone found it, they'd know. So she shut her eyes and threw it in, the flames licking it lightly at first, then devouring it before Erik threw water on the fire and stomped out the embers.  
Then he quickly mounted the horse and helped her up.  
"Get comfortable; we have a ways to go." He said simply. She nodded, though in this saddle...in any astride saddle, it was impossible to get comfortable as she sat side saddle.  
"Ready?" He asked her.  
Faking a smile and hiding her discomfort, she nodded, and the horse lurched forward. 

"Who is he?" Christine asked suddenly, when the questions in her mind became to much for her.  
They had stopped by a small creek. The horse was drinking gaily from in as Christine stayed by it's side, stroking it's neck absentmindedly.  
Erik, who had been digging in the saddlebags, put his head up and pee red over at her from behind his shoulder.  
"Nadir?" he asked after thinking a few moments.  
Christine nodded. "You told me to go to him, and that he'd know me. Who is he?"  
Erik straightened, a small grin playing on his lips. "You are inquisitive, aren't you? But I was wondering when you'd ask. He's an old friend of mine. Well, he used to be. Like I said before, my life was threatened by greater people than lowly farmers. A king of Persia was one of them. Nadir was a daroga in those days. Do you know what a daroga is? It's a chief of police. Nadir watched over me for the king, until the king decided I was too genius for my own good, and wanted me dead. Nadir made a compromise with me; if I promised him that I'd never killed another person again outside of self defense, he'd let me go. If not, he'd lead me to my execution. Needless to say, I suppose, that I promised. Ever since he was released from the Persian jail after letting me go, he's been watching me closely. Any news of the Opera Populaire, he knows about. He knows of the suicides, the awkward deaths, the mysterious going ons. He is no longer a daroga, but he acts still like one. He knows about you as well. But I have not seen him since a year or so before the Populaire fire, which I caused. It's quite easily to presume that he wont be very pleased with me."  
"Does he know about me the same way he knows about the deaths? By reading?" Christine asked.  
"No. He knows you were my student; I have talked to him since he arrived in Paris. But trying to persuade him to believe me when I say you are here on your own accord, let alone begged me to let you come...well, it will be your words that will convince him, not any of mine. He was my friend, my companion, but I fear he is like all the rest; under the impression that I am nothing but a bloodthirsty beast, incapable of showing or receiving any kind of love from a woman. And by you? A beautiful, young soprano that could of have the rich Vicomte? It may take years to make him believe."  
Christine just stared at him, surprised he had revealed so much. Then, timidly, she asked, "Then why do we go there; if he will be so hard on you? And that if he acts like he's still the chief of police, wouldnt he be just the person we'd be best to stay away from?"  
"Precisely, Christine. On any other occasion than this. But see, we are in need of his...other services." Erik said, flipping over the saddlebag he was digging into. All that fell out was an apple and a few morsels of stale bread.  
"That's it?" Christine said softly, looking at the food.  
Erik seemed angry with himself as he stared down at it too. "That's it."  
With that, he succumbed into silence, staring down but seeing nothing. Christine stood uneasily, watching him and waiting. What was he thinking about so hard? His shoulders were stiff, as was the posture of his back. One hand clenched the empty saddlebag still, as the other was in a tight fist. His eyes were hard and narrow. Whatever he was thinking, Christine was sure it wouldnt be good for her.  
"Go back." His deep voice suddenly sounded.   
Christine's head flew up, looking at him with wide eyes. "What?"  
"Go back...back to your home. You can do it yourself - just get on the dirt road and follow it back to the last town. There's many officers. Tell them that you escaped me; that you want to go home. Or, if you really don't want to do it by yourself, I can lead you to Nadir - he'll take you back. I've done many wrong things in his eyes, he'll just see this as another addition to his list; I'm sure he's marked it already. But he couldn't really blame me. After all, what was I to do? I'm only a feelingless monster who cant help but want an innocent girl to play a part for a while, am I right?" He said angrily, but his fury was not directed to her. He looked up at her, his body and complection stern, but his eyes sorrowful and asking forgiveness.  
She stared back at him in shock. A thousand words streamed in her head, begging to be let out from her lips. Yet, only one did. "No!" Seeing Erik taken aback at the sound of her stern yell encouraged those words to slowly form into sentences and to come out. "I'm not going back. I don't want to-"  
"You don't belong here!" Erik interupted. "I raised you for the stage! For you to be where everyone can admire your great beauty and voice. Not here. Not where you will go to waste. I promised to keep you from starving, yet you eat less than ballet rats when they are dieting and training! You lost many pounds, I can feel it when I lift you. And we haven't even been gone very long! I skip meals so you can eat more, and it's still not much. Living on just my love is not enough, Christine. If we keep going the way we are, you're going to be dying from it. And I wont watch you wither away right in front of my eyes!" Erik exclaimed, showing more passion than he had in a long time.  
"Then I'll die!" Christine yelled back. "I rather be here than anywhere else. I've never complained of not getting enough food or of anything to you. I'm doing just fine!"  
Erik just stared at her. When he replied, it was in a softer, hushed tone. "You've changed greatly over the years. The Christine I used to know would never think of defying me."  
"And you told me that there was little you could deny me. This was not one of those things that you had to refuse. You promised to accept my decision."  
"No. I wont force you to go back, but I will beg. Once I thought that I was much higher than begging, but for you and your safety, I shall lower myself. But I realize now, at least at this point, I can not accept your decision."  
"Lower or higher yourself as much as you want, but I will not accept begging if you wont accept my plea. Therefore, cast me away, let me not on your horse. But I will follow you. Come snow or rain, thunder and lightning, I'll be behind you the whole way."  
Erik looked away. Was that a grin she saw? "Do not pride yourself in being so different than when you were a teenager, my dear - your strongest point then is still yours now - you are still very stubborn."  
"Oh, but that why I pride myself. In my eyes, stubbornness is a very good thing."  
"Then I suppose, it is in mine."  
Christine walked over to the horse, petting his neck before looking back at Erik. "Shall we?"  
He shook his head and sighed. Never had he lost an argument with anyone before. Always he came on top. So why was it now that he couldn't win a single one?  
"You'll be the death of me, Christine." He said as he approached her, but with a smile. She grinned back, knowing full well that she had won, and that this small victory was hers.  
"Thank you." She whispered as he hauled her up to the horse.


	17. Chapter 17

Riding carefully through the forest, Erik and Christine traveled through the day miserably. Their good fortune of having nothing but sunny or slightly clouded skies was no longer with them. Now, rain poured down in buckets and sheets. Despite being under a canopy of the heavy forest, they received nature's fury just the same. Christine was clinging onto Erik as if for dear life, even though they were going slow enough that she wouldnt have to hold on at all. Everything but her shoes and ankles were covered by Erik's long cape. Still on him, she wrapped one side of the cape around her, and plunged her head under.  
Lightning lit up the dark skies, loud, booming thunder soon following it. Christine cringed and trembled as she clung tighter to Erik's middle. A cry rose in her throat, but she pushed it back down. She had stopped screaming at every lash of thunder an hour ago, much to Erik's great relief.  
She could feel one of his brass buttons from his coat burying into her cheek, causing much pain, but she refused to yield to it. If she was to get through this storm, she would have to remain as she was.  
"Sure you don't want to go back?" Erik asked her in humor, teasing to see if her fright would get the better of her, even just for a moment. But he was not rewarded - instead, she instantly screamed no from inside the ruffles of his cape.  
A smile spread across his lips, but along with the smile came a low chuckle. Feeling his chest rise and fall quickly made her smile, knowing he was laughing, even in such a grim situation. She was filled with warmth; knowing that even with what they had been through, she had the power to make him laugh; to make him happy.  
Thinking this, she pushed her forehead against his shoulder, getting close to comfortable for the first time.  
"Keep moving in there and you're going to knock me off this horse, Christine! Then you really shall be the death of me!" Erik exclaimed, wobbling slightly as she wiggled to find a good spot.  
She immediantly stopped, seeing that where she was would be all the comfort she'd be able to get.  
When she was still, Erik could hear her muffled giggling. But once she stopped, she could feel something linger lightly on the top of her head for just a moment, then lift. A kiss? Had Erik really shown true emotion when both of them were awake? When usually he'd be hesitant to show anything? Laying her head down again on his shoulder, making Erik look like he had a large bump coming out of his shoulder, Christine closed her eyes, and with a smile, drifted off into a contented sleep. "Listen now. Are you awake? Stay awake." Erik said in an urgent voice that forced Christine's fluttering heavy eyelashes up.  
"Like I said to you before, Nadir and I will not be on the best of terms. Perhaps the worst. This will not be a pleasant stay, not just for me, but for you also. He wont believe a word I say, especially about you. It'll be you who'll have to do the convincing. You convinced me several times on why you should stay with me; now work that magic into him. We'll stay one night, to freshen up and get food, if he allows. Even if he may wish me to hell, however, he will not let you starve. He'll give us enough food to last us a few days, which is all we can carry. Christine? Christine, you best not be sleeping!"  
Christine's eyes fluttered open once more. She nodded her head; having heard everything, even if only faint. For once, she wished silence to him so she could rest, but that was not so. As soon as she told him she had heard, he was pulling her off the horse and onto her feet!  
"Erik?"  
"We're almost there. We'll walk the rest of the way, leading the horse. Now, did you hear what I said before?"  
Christine nodded. Erik put the reins of the horse in her hands, then put his arm around her, standing like he was half crippled. Grabbing the cane that they managed to keep with them, they went walking in to the deserted, sleepy town.  
Soon enough, they came upon the only house with candles still flickering behind it's thin curtains.  
"This is it?" Christine asked softly.  
"...Think so. Haven't been here in years, and all the houses look so alike in this dark."  
"You think?" Christine exclaimed. What if he was wrong?  
An odd chuckle rose in Erik's throat as he said, "Guess we'll have to hope I'm right, or else we'll be in a bit of a mess, now wont we?"  
Had she not known better, she would have deemed Erik drunk with such a statement as that, and with his type of humor at a time like this!  
Erik walked to the door, pushing her behind him as he knocked. Christine peeked from behind his one shoulder to see a heavyset man with olive colored skin answer the door. Immediantly his eyes were on flame. "What is the meaning of this?" The man that Christine took as Nadir exclaimed. "Surely you do not come to my own home for help! Surely I am dreaming this horrid nightmare."  
Christine saw Erik wince at the words, yet his face remained sober. "I just need a room,some food, and your understanding."  
"My understanding?" Nadir exclaimed. "Understanding that you have made many wrong turns over the years, but this one? Trying to kill the famous Vicomte? No, Erik."  
With that, Erik took grabbed Christine's wrist and pulled her forward. She stumbled, but managed a weak, helpless smile as she looked upon the stern, yet slightly surprised face.  
"So it is true? For your sake, I was hoping that this missing mademoiselle had run off in hiding from you...I had hopes that you didn't go so far as to really steal the Miss Christine Daae."  
"Let me in, Nadir; I promise to make you understand."  
"You mean you'll persuade me to believe you by pulling some horrid sorrow story? Tell me, do you have a punjab lasso with you to add to my understanding? No more, Erik. I wash my hands of you. I am too old to be following after you to try and help; as you are too beyond help."  
"So you'll turn us away and let her starve, Nadir?"  
"No, never. You will leave now, but the girl stays with me. I'll return her, make sure she is kept safe from all, and that her reputation is not ruined."  
"You cant!" Christine suddenly cried out, even though Erik's disapproving eyes were on her. "Don't send me back, please! Erik, don't make me go. Not now, not after all this. Make him understand. Please, tell him."  
Nadir's already large eyes went wider as he stared at both of them - looking at one, then the other, then back at the first. "You...you want to stay with him? What did you do to her to make her say such, Erik?"  
"Let me in, let us stay for just one night, and I'll explain it all to you."  
Nadir kept looking back and forth, trying to decide if he wanted to involve himself in anyway in this. Then, with his shoulders suddenly drooping, he realized he had no choice in it at all.  
"May Allah help us all and get me through this night." Christine heard him mutter as he shook his head and retreated back into his house, indicating for them to follow.  
Erik put his arm around her and helped her weary form up the stairs and through the doorway to keep us with Nadir.Once they were all in a large room with a roaring, warm fire, Nadir stopped and turned to his unwelcomed visitors.  
"Erik, if you will be so cooperative, would you follow this maid to your room and...freshen up while I have a little...chat with Miss Daae here?" Nadir asked, looking at Christine. Erik quickly stepped in front of her, along with outstretching his arm to her side as if protecting her.  
"Now listen here, Nadir; I am very grateful that you open your home to us, but there are conditions that I will have you aware of. I know it's second nature to you to interrogate everyone that comes within a mile's radius from me, but be merciful - Christine has been traveling through terrible storms for the last day and a half. She's exhausted, to the point of falling right off her feet. I'll tell you all you need to do, but allow her to get some sleep."  
"I only ask a few minutes with the lady, Erik. I will not keep her up all night. I just want to 'understand' from her point of view before yours."  
"No, you want to compare our separate stories to see if one of us is lying!" Erik snapped back angrily.  
"If neither of you is lying, then you have nothing to worry about, now do you?"  
Erik glared angrily at Nadir, wondering if he shouldn't just grab Christine and run at this moment. But he knew that it was already to late, and they'd have to go through with it all. They were in the mercy of Nadir now, which could be a deadly thing.  
"You may talk to her. But I'll have you know that Christine never told a lie in her life. Your search will be in vain. The poor girl don't know how to lie."  
"Then that just adds good light to you, now doesn't it? Away with you now, Erik. I'll have a servant come fetch you when I am ready. Mademoiselle? Would you follow me?"  
Christine's stomach churned, not liking that she'd be asked questions, and without Erik there to help her. But in her tired state, all she wanted was to get it over with so she could sleep. Even the hardwood floors were starting to look inviting at this point.  
Nadir indicated for her to sit on the sofa while he took a rocking chair. But the moment Christine's body hit the soft, luring materials of the cushioned sofa made her eyes droop until they shut.   
"Miss Daae? No sleeping now. You may sleep all the night through once I have had my few minutes with you. We'll have to make this quick, or Erik is liable to break down my door if I bend my word a little and keep you too long. The man has a bigger temper than this world can deal with."  
Christine couldn't help but smile. Did she not know that all to well already?  
"That you do not have to tell me. His temper tends to get the better of him whenever I am concerned."  
Nadir's head cocked to the side as he looked at her. "Could it be that you are really here because you want to be?"  
"If I was not, wouldnt I use this time to tell you differently and get you to take me back home?"  
"And that's not what you want?"  
"No! All I want is to be wherever Erik is. If that means sleeping in deserted valleys and fields, then that's what I'll do."  
"Do you love him?" He asked next.  
"Of course. Why would I put myself through this if I did not? Do you find it so hard that someone could truly love him?"  
"No...it's just...it's been to my knowledge that many women faked their love for him. Each got some use out of him, then passed him along, broken and hurt."  
"Why would you care? At the door it seemed you were the one trying to hurt him."  
Nadir sighed, shaking his head. "He makes many wrong decisions, Erik does. But hurt him? No...I couldn't do that. If I really had to, of course. If he really crossed the line, yes. But just being him? Asking for stay? No."  
"So this crime you do not believe is over the line?"  
"Of course it is! Had it been any other time, I would have allowed Erik in with few chidings. But not this time."  
"But you just said-"  
"This is not about me, Miss Daae - it's about you. Now, sit there and answer my questions kindly, so you can eat faster."  
"That's not fair - I didn't come here to get interrogated. I don't deserve to be treated like this, just because you cant believe a woman can truly love a man like Erik."  
"No? Were you kidnaped, Christine Daae?"  
"No."  
"Then you are helping a criminal to flee the police. That's a crime you yourself is committing, therefore I have every right to question."  
"But you're not a chief of police - you're a daroga. They don't have darogas here. Even if they did, I heard that you were dismissed from your duties and are now legally inactive."  
"I was dismissed because I was saving Erik's life! Do not question me! I may be 'legally inactive', but I still have very powerful connections. Now, Erik told me you both will have the same stories. What do you have to fear then, answering me?"  
"You just told me that if I'm not kidnaped, I'm a criminal too. You're trapping me, trying to get me to lie or to find fault with me. Why would I answer to you?"  
Nadir actually laughed at this. "So he picked one with as much wit as him, did he? It figures, that."  
"What do you wish to ask me? I'm starving and terribly tired."  
Nadir thought a minute, then realized that through his arguing, she had answered them all already.  
With a grin, he asked "What would you like for supper?"  
"Excuse me?" Christine asked, taken off guard.  
"I'll have my servant cook you up something. You must be tired of eating stale bread and such. I'll get you a room then bring up your dinner. What would you like?"  
Christine smiled, suddenly liking this man that Erik called his old friend.


	18. Chapter 18

Despite being so dreadfully tired, Christine awoke. Wondering what shook her from her sleep, she listened. Soon, she heard Erik and Nadir's voices mixing from a room below.  
Stripping off her sheets, Christine put her feet onto the cold wood floors and crept down the stairs. Hearing that they were in the room the steps descended upon, she sat on the last step that was shielded by a wall and listened to the ongoing debate.  
"What can I say to make you believe me, Nadir? What does it take?" Erik asked angrily.  
"What could you say? How could you expect me to believe a word you say after you broke your solemn vow to me?"  
"I tried to keep it!"  
"It was an easy enough task! I would not blame you if men died after attacking you. But none did. You attacked them. All I asked was to stop killing; to act like the civilized, normal human being that you long to be. Why was that so hard?"  
"You could not understand."  
"Then help me! Is that not what you are here to do?"  
She heard Erik let out a deep sigh, then began. "The Opera House was not very cooperative-"  
"So kill them off?" Nadir interrupted.  
"I thought you wanted me to explain!" Erik snapped.  
"I do, but I don't want a ridiculous excuse."  
"Perhaps, in hind sight, not all of my decisions were...well, what you would have decided. But think of how you would have done anything to see Rookheeya truly happy. Whatever she wished of you, you did it for her, did you not? When you truly love someone...it's like an obsession begging to be fed. No matter what, you'll be a slave to whatever it is that's going to make your love happy. You did everything for your wife. I did everything I could for Christine. She wanted to sing in honor of her father, and no one was going to stand in my way to making her dreams come true. Of course, I sacrificed some things, my promise to you being one of them - but I know you heard the rave reviews, Nadir! I know you know of her great success, no matter how short."  
"What does this have to do with you and her in my home?"  
"Everything, Nadir, if you will just listen. Everything was done by me for her. I risked anything and everything I had to so I could get her where she could spread her wings and fly. A few killings were involved, I admit to that, and feel sorry for those unfortunate souls, but I do not regret it. I do, though, understand why I have no chance in being seen innocent by anyone in this latest crime. It is common knowledge by many, what I felt and did for Christine. Why not kill the Vicomte to make sure he is out of the way for good? That is what you think, is it not?"  
"What if it is?"  
"Then you are a fool like the rest of them. Why should I care what de Changy does now? And I am not heartless. I see that he has let Christine go from his clutches and moved on. He has a family, a nice home. In all rights and in my eyes he is forgiven. Why would I wish to kill him?"  
"Do you think it is that easy? Say a few convincing words and I, along with all of Paris, is to believe you?"  
"I do not care what all of Paris believes. But you...you're different. We were once friends, you and I. And it would mean more than you could imagine if you'd believe me."  
"Why? As Miss Daae pointed out - I am no longer a daroga. Truly, I have just as much power as any other person in this village. What difference would it mean to you if I believed you or not?"  
"The world, Nadir."  
"How do you explain the mask that he claimed to have seen, then?"  
It was clear that Nadir was bending, that he was just grasping for things to hold on to his previous beliefs. He was having little luck with this.  
"You know Madame Giry's daughter. She led a large group...a mob...down to my lair. They took many things with them, including every last mask. Yet, not one showed up in the vaults that everyone claimed they put all of my belongings. I wear this one because little Giry gave it to Christine, whom returned it to me. Anyone could be trying to kill the good Vicomte in my name now."  
Nadir seemed to be debating whether he should trust Erik's word or not. Before he could convince himself not to, however, Erik leaned close to Nadir.  
"Look at me, Nadir. Look at who I am, who you know me to be. Do you really believe I tried to kill de Changy?"  
Christine peeked from behind the wall of her safety to see Erik leaning closer to Nadir, his eyes focusing straight into Nadir's soul. She shuddered, knowing that feeling all to well.  
They stayed the same for a few moments, until Nadir sighed and fell back against his chair. "I suppose not." He said lightly, looking into the fire.  
"You believe me?" Erik said, trying to sound emotionless, yet hope and surprise were easily noticeable in his voice.  
Nadir nodded, looking back at Erik. "I believe you."  
Erik shook his head, looking down at his lap. "No, never mind. I don't deserve to be seen in a good light to you. Not after what I did to you."  
"You speak of Reza?"  
"I shouldn't have takenm his life in my hands. It went against your god, and I was selfish to do what I did."  
"Selfish to put him in a peaceful rest, though you yourself adored him?"  
"You hated me for ending his life early; do not act as if I speak like I'm absurd."  
"I told you before I forgave you for that."  
"No, Daroga - you told me you werent going to let that become between us; but that you'd never forgive me."  
"Then I spoke a lie to you."  
Erik shook his head again. "What I did was wrong. I do not ask for your mercy."  
"Erik, like it or not, you have it."  
Erik looked up into Nadir's eyes. Both smiled slowly, then clasped hands.

The next morning, Christine awoke at dawn to a servant's urgent hand. "Mademoiselle, please wake up. The man you travel with is eager to leave." She said. Christine's eyes flew open. Shooing out the nurse, Christine quickly readied herself, then ran down the stairs. When she was down, however, she stalled from turning the corner, where she could hear Erik and Nadir's voices.  
"I filled you staddle bags as much as I could. I only wish it was more."  
"It will be enough. The horse can only carry so much, anyway."  
"But I wish I could have given you more help than I have."  
"It was enough."  
"And I wish I could offer you more than this. To give you safety, anything."  
"You believe me when I asked you too, even without the proof that you always seek for before believing anything. That is more than enough."  
Christine watched as the two men shook hands heartedly, a smile on both their faces. She herself put on a cheerful smile, then came upon the two. "Ready?" She asked Erik. He grinned at her, looking her over.  
"If you are, my dear." He said, but turned his look from her to Nadir, winking at him. Nadir returned it with an even bigger smile. Christine could only guess at what their secrets were, but she didn't care at the moment. It made her heart leap to see a smile back on Erik's lips; something that seemed all too seldom of late.  
"You best go as quickly as you can; the Vicomte is said to be sending officers to towns like this." Nadir said, as he straightened little things out here and there.  
"Raoul is leading the officers?" Christine asked quickly. Both men turned to her with a surprised look. After a few moments, Nadir answered her.  
"He is. Funding it as well. Seems he is the patron of many things when it concerns you."  
Christine blushed crimson as she looked away. Nadir gave her a confused look, and Christine prayed that she had not given him the wrong impression. Thankfully, the look was washed from his face and a smile was put in it's place. "May Allah watch over you and keep you." He blessed instead.  
Putting his arm around her and taking out his cane, Erik and Christine thanked him again, then walked out the door and off to the next place they'd stop, slowing, but surely, getting farther away from Paris. 

Christine stared at Erik, a few feet from her, as she bit into her apple.   
"Would there be any reason you stare at me like so, Christine?" Erik asked, feigning a scared look.  
She laughed. "Just...thinking."  
"Well, tell me of your thoughts. How did you find Nadir yesterday?"  
"A fine fellow, I suppose. You seem to have patched up your friendship quite well."  
"I only hope. If he's not on my side...well..."  
Christine nodded. Some emotions were wordless.  
"It's nice to know more of your past. Seems strange...I've known you since I was seven years old, yet your past has always been one big unexplored mystery to me."  
"On purpose, I assure you. I'd rather keep it that way, for both our sakes, but we have one more stop we must make. He is about a day or so away. Nadir's food will keep us until that long. He is also from my distant past that you will have to know about."  
"Who is he? And are you on better terms with him than Nadir?"  
"Worse, I regret to say. I wish I could avoid going to him, but I must. We'll never make it to where we must just this amount of food."  
"How do you know him? What is his name?"  
"He is Giovanni. After a few years of living in the opera house, my restless soul begged to be let out of what seemed like an eternal dark cage. I left, and went in search for beauty. I found it one day, near twilight. Beautiful, breathtaking buildings in all their glory stood before me. I stood in awe, not aware that a man approached me. That was Giovonni. He saw my love for these amazing buildings and decided to go against his word and take me on as an apprentice. It wasn't long before he saw my talent. It was then when he decided I'd be the one that he'd teach all his knowledge to. He had no sons, which he considered a curse. So he took on me, acting as if I was his own flesh and blood. He was the first person in my life to not care what I looked like or what I wore on my face. He genuinely cared for me, loved me in fact, the way not even my own mother ever could. In return, I treated him with the love and respect that I would have with my own father. My birth father, you see, died before I was born. He never had to look upon my cursed face; I think my mother thought him lucky.  
Giovanni let me live in his basement that he fixed up for me. I learned amazing things while with him, and we were always close."  
"But Erik - it sounds as if you had a great relationship with him. Why say you are on worse terms with him than Nadir?"  
"I did not kill Nadir's child." Erik whispered so low, Christine wondered if she had heard right. But then he continued before she could say a word. "No, wait...I did. Well, at least Reza went in peace. I helped him. I did not help Luciana."  
Christine just stared at him for a moment, wondering if she wanted to hear him go on or wish silence upon him. "Reza...Nadir's son?"  
"Yes. I might go through the pain of recalling the tale, about how Reza had a grave, incurable illness and that he was bound to die soon, despite him being so young, but I don't believe I have to. You know the rest already."  
Christine's eyes opened wide. Did he know about how she had listened? She had been so quiet! "I don't know what you are talking about, I am afraid."  
"I'm afraid you do. You know that I am no angel now...that I have temptations just like every other human being. And I know that you are the same."  
Christine blushed. "I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped...but you both woke me up! I had to see what was all the matter."  
Erik looked at her with a face of disbelief, but she just smiled sweetly and stood up. She ran down to the little river, then, with her trained feet, did graceful ballet motions in the wild grass. "The Angel of Music sings songs in her head...the Angel of Music sings songs in her head." She sung beautifully, side glancing at Erik to see if she still had his attention. She wanted to lighten their moods instead of both of them being always full of melancholy. Instead, the song rose different thoughts into his mind.  
"What was that name that de Changy used to call you?" He asked suddenly. Christine's feet fell flat on the ground as she stopped dancing to look oddly at him. "What?"  
"The name...he had a name for you. I cant remember it."  
Christine shrugged. "Must have slipped my mind too."  
"Come Christine - I know he called you it since you were a little girl. What was it?"  
She sighed, giving up. "Little Lottie."  
"Lottie? But he's french and that's a-"  
"It's from a story Father used to read to us. Why do you ask?"  
Erik shrugged now, biting into his apple. "What was the story about?"  
"About Little Lottie . Her father promised her that he'd send her the Angel of Music, so everyone would be awed and astounded by her amazing gift. The Angel of Music just has to visit you; if you are worthy."  
"Worthy?" Erik asked, interested.   
"Innocent and pure. If you are bad, he will not come. But if you are good, he descends from the heavens to touch your throat, and you will sing like an Angel as well."  
Erik said nothing to that, just stared out to the mountains in the distance. "Were you disappointed?"  
"About what? This? I told you, I'd rather be here-"  
"No, no. About me. When you found out that the Angel of Music never visited you; that it was just me the whole time."  
Christine smiled as she knelt down before him. "No; I was even more thrilled. The one person I could really put all my trust and faith in...was real." She said, then sat with her back to him, leaning into his chest as she looked sleepily at the pale skies in peace. Just as she felt herself becoming light and near falling asleep, she heard Erik chuckle in her ear. "Yes...that, and you finally knew that you really weren't insane."  
Christine couldn't help but giggle before falling asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

The skies had opened up once again and was letting down all it's fury upon Erik and Christine. The ground, soaked from the nonstopping rain, was slick and muddy to the point where Erik had to get off the horse to help guide it. Christine offered to help, but Erik forbade it.  
"We're near there now." Erik yelled back to her over the winds. She squinted to see his form; the rain was so hard, she could hardly see him only four feet away.  
She tried to blink back the raindrops that fell upon her eyelashes, but as soon as she did, more replaced them, making her eyes heavy and leadened. Never had she seen such a storm as this.  
Thunder and lightning clashed overhead. Christine shrieked and threw her body against the horse's, wrapping her arm's around his neck and pressing her head into it's mane.  
A few minutes later, Erik called back again. "Are you still alright up there, Christine? Still breathing?"  
Christine whimpered a reply, and kept her hold on the horse's neck. Finally, Erik swung up onto the saddle behind her. Immediately her arms went from the horse's neck to around Erik's middle, hiding her head under his cape once again. Now was when she felt safe.  
"Christine, I need you to sit up now. You need to be in front of my mask." Erik said as they approached the clearing that made the small village in front of them visible. Reluctantly, she removed the cape from her head and sat up. Since she could no longer hold onto him, his arms came around her to keep her on and to steer the horse at the same time. Trotting now on the still slick cobble streets, Erik's keen eyes searched each house until he found the right one.  
"Here we are. I could never forget this house." Erik said in an odd tone. Christine followed his gaze. It went up to the second floor balcony, where a large piece of wall was missing. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind.   
"Shall we, my dear?" He asked in a soft, sorrowful whisper. She nodded, and walked slowly in front of him as he once again leaned on her. Taking a deep breath, she waited by the door with him, wondering what new things she would learn of his past here. "Just because we are here, don't get your heart set on a warm bath and a soft bed tonight. I told you before - if Giovanni slams the door on me, I'll walk away without an ounce of blame towards him. Do not raise your hopes; I fear this will not go well."  
Christine nodded, but said nothing. On any other occasion, her inquisitive side would have taken over and have asked why this was, but, as she was beginning to realize, some things she would do best in not knowing, even though she did know that she'd have to find out sooner or later.  
The door opened at this, and a servant dressed in grey stood before them.  
"May I help you?" She asked in a crisp manor.  
"We are here to see Giovanni."  
"And your name?"  
"Erik."  
"And your last name?" She asked as if annoyed.  
"He does not know my last name."  
"Look, Monsieur, Giovanni is very busy right now. Perhaps if you came back-"  
"I must see him - now."  
The servant sighed and retreated into the house.  
Christine looked up at him, perplexed. When he saw this, he let out a small, nervous laugh.  
"Destler." He said lightly. "My last name is Destler."  
"...Oh." Christine said, then, even though she tried to resist, she played with the idea of whether 'Christine Destler' sounded good or not. She finally came to the conclusion that it had a nice ring to it.  
Erik shook his head and muttered to himself for the rest of the time that they waited. Finally, the servant came back.  
"Monsieur Giovanni will see you now."  
"Did you tell him who I was?" Erik asked with a shocked face.  
"I did. I told him a Monsieur Erik and a mademoiselle was here to see him."  
"But what did he say to that?"  
"He asked if the gentleman named Erik had a mask. I told him this was so. He told me to send you in immediately."  
Erik sighed. "Well, I am well over do to confess my sins I've committed against him. I shall be prepared when he decides to yell at me through the night."  
Christine looked sorrowful as he took her hand and stepped inside the house, following the stiff servant.  
She led them into a beautiful room. The wood floors shone beautifully as the red flames from the large fireplace reflected upon them. A davenport was near the fireplace, as well as a wooden rocker that faced it. But no man sat upon either of these. Rather, they found a man that looked a century old in a hardback chair along the wall, away from the fire and near the windows. His head was bowed, his eyes closed. Christine wondered if he had fallen asleep while waiting for him.  
"Monsieur, your guests stand to greet you." The servant said.  
The elderly man looked up, his eyes pale. "Erik? Could that really be you?"  
Erik released Christine's hand and walked quickly to him. On bended knee he knelt before the man in the chair.  
"I am deeply sorry to intrude upon you, but see, I travel with a woman who is in need of a room. We rode through heavy storms, and she is soaked to the skin. Had I traveled alone, I never would have burdened you. I ask that you allow us to stay for just one night. I ask you this, though I know you have every right to cast me out of your home the moment you are through with having your say. I will not blame you if you chose to do so. Yet I plead that you think of the mademoiselle whom I travel with."  
"Erik...what do you say? Why do you assume I would ever wish to cast you from my home? I have awaited through many years for your return. In my younger years, I'd kneel down and pray through my empty days to see you once more. Now that I am old, I only imagine it. Could it be that you are finally here to accept my deep regrets?"  
Erik looked stunned, as if someone had knocked all the air out of him. "Accept your regrets? I am in your wrong, not the other way. I am here to accept all you anger that you have built for me over the years. Am I truly wrong to assume you have thought differently?  
Giovanni grinned. "I have awaited a very long time for you to return; but at least now I really know why. Later we must discuss this matter that has separated us for so many years. But now is not the time nor the place. Mademoiselle Bloom, would you take this beauty that travels with my dear boy up to a room and cater to her until dinner is served? My boy...welcome home, even if it is only for a night."  
As Christine was led away by a different maid, this one with long blonde hair that curled down past her hips and bright green eyes, she looked back at Erik with curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Never in all the years she knew him had she ever heard a single soul call him 'my boy.' Who was this man who treated them so generously, when Erik seemed so sure just minutes ago that he would shut the door on them?  
"Come, Mademoiselle, it is not far." The maid urged, making Christine keep her thoughts to herself and to surrender to the woman that was to care for her.

Christine entered the bathroom once it was void of all servants. Looking into the bathtub, she saw they had put bubble bath into it and the water smelled of sweet roses. She anxiously got into the warm water, feeling as if she'd stay in there for a thousand eternities.   
Yet, as she found out, a thousand eternities wasn't so long - for the bath water soon turned icy and drew her out. Yet when she reached for her clothes, she found them missing. Hearing someone walking in the hallway, she quickly opened the door a crack. The woman that had led her up here was the one that she saw now.  
"Excuse me, but my clothes are gone." Christine said with flushed cheeks.   
"Oh, we took them for washing. I have new clothes that you may borrow for now." She said, handing her an armful of undergarments and a dress. Christine thanked her, excited now that she'd be wearing anything but the same two dresses that she had been. Shutting the door, she laid out each piece of clothing, then admired the dress.  
It was long and white; simple, yet beautiful. The front bodice was colored a royal blue, which streaked a strip of the skirt directly below it. Gold ribbon laced up the royal blue pattern of the bodice, making it quite striking.  
Quickly Christine dressed in it, then admired herself in the full length mirror. Upon opening the door, she found the same maid standing there in waiting. "I'll show you to your room now, mademoiselle." She said sweetly, then started walking down the hallway. Christine looked over the railing, which overlooked a part of the dining room. There she saw Erik and Giovanni talking about small things. Since their conversation was faintly heard by Christine, it was completely blocked out when the maid started to speak to her.  
"So you travel with Monsieur Erik?" She asked. Christine simply nodded, straining her ears to hear the two below them.  
"You must forgive the maid that answered the door. She's new, and doesn't know about Monsieur Erik."  
"Know about him? What do you mean?" Christine asked, forsaking the idea of being able to hear a word of the others.  
"Oh... I suppose you wouldn't know. We've been awaiting the arrival of Monsieur Erik for many years. We've all been praying that he'd show before Master Giovanni died. His current condition has worsened, therefore we have given up. Now..."  
"Why? Why wait for him? I'm afraid I don't know very much about Giovanni...only that Erik has hurt him badly. Why would you await his arrival?"  
The maid laughed. "Because whatever knowledge Monsieur Erik has told you, you can forget. He assumed Giovanni hated him, but it was not so. Instead, when his youngest daughter Luciana died, not only did he lose one child...but two. Master Giovanni likened Erik as his son."  
"So he has mourned the fact that Erik fled, when Erik thought he was running away from Giovanni's wrath."  
"It's sad, is it not? So many decades of confusion has passed in pain."  
For the first time, Christine realized they were not moving anymore. Looking around, she found herself in a beautiful room, with a white canopy bed in the corner. White lace curtains hung by the window, and an oval mirror stood above a wooden vanity.  
"I must go help with dinner now. Just make yourself at home. If you like to read, there are books on the side table that you are welcomed to. Oh, and my name is Sarah. Call me if you need anything."  
Christine smiled, not used to having anyone wait on her. "Thank you, Sarah."  
She nodded, then left the room. Once she did, Christine sat on the bed with a sigh. Sarah looked much like Meg, with her long golden hair. Both were short in stature, and very sweet and soft spoken. Christine couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever see Meg again. She tried to stop the tears that were on the verge of falling, but it was useless. She awaited for dinner with a heavy heart and a grieving mind.


	20. Chapter 20

Sarah came up to fetch Christine no after too long. Since she knocked, Christine had just enough time to quickly dry her tears. Then she followed Sarah down to the dining room. When Erik saw her, her smiled brightly, then stood up to pull out her chair. She looked at him in surprise, but then felt ashamed. Why would she be surprised that Erik had manners? Of course he did. He just...never showed them...ever before.  
She sat in the indictated chair and he pushed her in, then sat across from her. Giovanni sat diagonal to both of them, sitting at the head of the table.  
"Giovanni, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Christine Daae." Erik said after an awkward pause. Giovanni put out his hand. "An honor to meet such a fine lady as yourself." He said, but Christine just blushed and nodded.  
"So Erik, now tell me about what you have been up to all these years. What have you done? Did you continue to design buildings at all?" Giovanni asked as the meal plates were put before them.  
Erik cleared his throat and sat up. "I...designed a Persian temple. I was the head of building it as well."  
"A Persian temple?" Giovanni asked in amazement.  
"For the King."  
Christine looked at the man across from her in surprise. Never would she have guessed that that laid in his past!  
"What did you do after you finished that?"  
"Nothing. I stopped after finishing the temple. I returned to the Opera House, where I had lived...nearby for some time before venturing into Persia. There, I became a singing tutor for the woman whom sits before you."  
"Miss Daae was your student?"  
"Indeed. And she became quite the soprano diva."  
"Really?" Giovanni's amazement was now directed upon her.  
Blushing, she shook her head. " It was only for a very short time."  
"Come, she is being modest. Her voice was better than any diva there. And even a short time is still a time when she ruled above the others. I'd have her sing for you, Giovanni, if I didn't fear her weariness and the cold night's air damaging her vocal chords. In time, I shall have to get them back into shape."  
"There is no point now, Erik. You do not have to." Christine said softly.  
"Nonsense. Just because we are not near an opera house does not mean you should altogether stop your singing. You love to sing, do you not?"  
Christine sighed as she nodded, but said nothing.  
"Anything else you have done since you've been away, my son?" Giovanni asked after a slight pause.   
"Nothing worth mentioning, I assure you. My life has not been terribly exciting."  
"No? What about Miss Daae here. It is obvious now that she is not just a fellow traveler. What is she to you? Are you two wed?"  
Christine was sure she was crimson after that question! She was surprised, whoever, that Erik remained calm and not thrown off beat in the slightest.  
"It's not quite...something we can talk about at this point of time." He answered.  
"So you have no children, then. If you do get married, do you plan to have children?"  
Oh why, why did she have to sip wine at that moment? Christine never had tasted such bitter wine before, and accidently took a gulp of it. It stung her throat, making her convulse with unstoppable coughs. The more she tried to hold them in, the harder she coughed. But why did it have to happen when he asked such a question? What must they think of her? She dared to look up at them, and saw that both were looking at her in surprise.  
"Strong wine." She finally managed to utter.  
Erik looked back at Giovanni. "In this situation, it would be quite the impossibility. And something also tells me that I wont have to worry about that." He said, side glancing at Christine. She slid farther into his chair, now upset that she gave him the wrong impression.   
Conversations went on, talking of trifle things such a the weather and conditions of the road at this time of season until dinner was through and Christine returned to her room, claiming she was quite exhausted.

Christine tried, really she did, to remain in her room. But knowing just half of the story of this young girl named Luciana had her perplexed and curious. There would be no hope of sleep until her wondering mind was put to rest. Therefore, she crept down the stairs a bit, peeking out of the railings, while trying to remain mostly covered by the wall that blocked a few feet of the staircase.  
"Come, sit beside my chair, my boy." Giovanni said as he settled into his rocking chair. Erik did as he was told and sat down beside the elderly man. "Do you remember the days when you were just a young lad, and I'd come up with any excuse to get you to trust me enough to sit beside my chair each night?"  
"I do." Erik answered softly, as if he was being transported back in time. "Those were some of the best days of my life."  
"Mine as well. You were a true highlight to my life. I thank God each day that he brought you to my life, if not just for a little while."  
"Giovanni...no more small talk. We both know what separated us, and I think it's time we come to terms with it."  
"I agree. I'll go first in saying how terribly sorry I am that I ran you out."  
Erik looked up at him in confusion. "Christine is no longer here with us. You do not have to act like this. I'm serious, Giovanni, and I want you to be as well. Don't act like this is your fault. We have just one night. Let me make my amends."  
"Erik...Erik, my dear boy...ow many years did you needlessly go on to blame yourself for the death of my daughter? I tell you now, in all truth, that not for a moment did I ever blame you for it. Not even I n my darkest, loneliest hours did I blame you."  
"How could you not?" Erik exclaimed, not understanding. "The reason why she fell to her death was because she ran from the horror of my face! Because I agreed to show her the nightmare that I myself was scared to death of. How could you be to blame for my horrid features?"  
"I am to blame, Erik, for the reasons of why she acted as so, and why she saw at all. Never should I have forced you to take off the mask that night. She told me of her love for you just hours before, but I knew that it was simple infatuation. Yet I could deny her nothing. She told be she could not fully love you without seeing what was under the mask. I knew from the beginning I should have sent her back to her boarding school, but I could not face her tears and screams of disagreement. Never should I have allowed her to stay under the same roof as you when I knew of her nature. She demanded the world, and I readily gave it to her. So when she demanded you take off your mask...I am so terribly ashamed to admit that I was more willing to ruin all the trust you had built up in me than to deny her. It was my fault, I take every ounce of blame; I always have. You never did anything wrong. Can you help what you were born with? Can you help but to obey your master's command? I beg of to forgive me for the wrongs I've done to you."  
Christine's mouth was agape as she saw Erik's face turn to Giovanni - tears were streaming down his face! His shoulders were heaving from the sobs caught in his chest. Leaning forward even more to see, she accidently went to far and slipped down a step, making a terribly loud bang. She gasped and scrambled back up to her room, praying that no one heard her.

Though she laid on her bed, stiff as a board, Christine could not go to sleep. She opened the window in her room and listened to the sounds of the night. Finally, after what she reasoned to be hours after she ran up to her room in retreat, did she hear footsteps coming up there stairs. She listened to them as they stopped at her door momentarily, then kept going into Erik's room.  
But, going to his room did not mean sleep to Erik. Christine listened to him pace back and forth without stop. She'd drift off into a light slumber, just to awake an hour or so later, and still hear pacing. It was obvious that he would get not a wink of sleep tonight.  
Come morning, Christine awoke one final time. She found her dresses washed. Reluctantly, she shed the nightgown that she had been given to wear, and put on her peasant outfit and black dress.  
She hurried down the stairs, knowing that Erik would be there already. She was right; Sarah was just putting a dish heaping with food in front of him. She flashed Christine a quick smile, then went back into the kitchen.  
Christine sat down across from Erik as he piled food into his mouth unceremoniously. No manners in eating like last night; he must have worked up quite the appetite as he paced through the night.  
"So I'm not too late? I thought you would have eaten breakfast already, not just starting." She said, feeling better about taking so long to get ready.  
"Starting? This is my third dish!" Erik said proudly. Christine looked at him with mouth agape as a plate was put before her. "Eat up so we can leave."  
"You never ate that much. What's wrong?"  
"Giovanni told me last night that if we don't eat enough to his satisfaction, he's not going to let us leave. I think he thinks he'll be able to keep us...obviously his memory is slipping. I can skip quite a few meals in a row and be just fine, but I can also out-eat a horse."  
Christine laughed. "But is it right to take so much from an elderly man that is not very rich?"  
"I'm already taking care of it. Once we leave, he'll find a handsome sum of money in a leather pouch by the door to repay him twice fold."  
Again, Christine felt her body shiver when he mentioned the money. Still, the question of how he managed to obtain that money plagued her.  
"Good night sleep?" He asked to break her out of her daydream.  
"Hmm? Oh, it was fine. It's just...I kept waking up to hear pacing."  
Erik ignored this. "Nightmares, at all?"  
"No, none. Why do you ask?"  
"Wondering, is all. What you heard last night is probably enough to give grown men nightmares."  
She opened her mouth to reply, but he did it for her. "Do not try to deny it. You made much noise on those steps. I'm starting to find that it is good fortune we are no longer in my lair; you would have fallen victim to my torture chamber many times by now. You're too curious, my dear."  
"You told me once that you planned to have me with you as your wife long ago. Why would you keep a torture chamber down there if you know of my...curious nature?" She asked with a sly smile.  
"To keep out intruders, is all. That and, it wouldn't hurt if I could switch from being the horrid phantom to being the hero that saves the damsel in distress every now and then, would it? Oh, but that is beside the point. You know I have the sharpest ears that anyone has ever had. Do you, while lurking on the steps, try to make me hear you?" He said, the last part sounding more of an accusion.  
She hung her head. "I fell." She whispered.  
"I suppose you did. Are you shocked?"  
"About what?"  
"That perhaps I have such dark pasts?"  
"No. I still don't know very much, but..."  
"You know enough to gather an idea of how dark my young life was. Either that, or you think that I am less than a man."  
"Why would I ever think such a thing?"  
"What grown man cries like that if he has nothing real to cry about? None, I assure you."  
"So...because every once in a while you show that you are human - that you hurt and feel too - that makes you less of a man? Tell me, Erik, do you consider yourself less than a man because you love me? Is that not showing a sign of weakness, after all? That you can not bear to live alone, that you need someone with you?"  
Erik smiled sadly. "I did not mean in it that way."  
"But do you?"  
He was silent a moment, then spoke. "Once I did. Once I wondered why I felt I needed someone. After all, I am the great Phantom of the Opera; the Opera Ghost; the amazing magician; the all wise genius. But I now know that being a man is part of that list, and men can not live alone all their days. So yes, I've changed my thinking, and no, I do not believe such any longer."  
Christine nodded. "Good...because you're the strongest, most wonderful man I ever knew. I wouldn't want you thinking any less of yourself."


	21. Chapter 21

Christine felt a rush of excitement; as is she was a little child again. She sat on a large rock in the middle of the fast moving stream, little waves licking the sides of the rock, and occasionally succeeding in splashing her.  
"You said you wanted to check your reflection, Christine. You'll never do so there. You have to go down stream a bit." Erik called.  
"I already washed my face. I'm just sitting here now. You ready to go so soon?"  
"No, we need to eat. But we should hurry it up, yes. You know that there's a lovesick boy with all his money trying to get on our tail."  
Christine looked over at him, looking slightly hurt and upset. "He's not a lovesick boy. He's married now."  
"He still has the same feelings as you do."  
"As I do? Erik, what are you talking about?"  
Erik looked full on to see her. "I saw your face, Christine, when Nadir said de Changy was funding the search. He was not just being jovial when he said that the Vicomte puts out a lot of money for anything that involves you. He was implying something there."  
"You think I still love him?" Christine said in shock. "How could you? Really, Erik! After all this...after everything I've told you...why would I put myself through this torture if I did not love you?"  
"Torture? I thought you said you wanted to be here."  
"No, I want to be with you - not here. I'll be here because it's where you are. I've never complained, and I never will...but know that this is not my desired place; I would not be here if you were not."  
"I trust that you wouldn't be. That was not my point."  
"No, your point is that you don't trust me, even still!"  
"Of course I trust you. Whom else would I allow to be here with me? No one - for it is only you I can put faith in."  
"Then why do you doubt my love?"  
"Because I still saw you! The look on your face...you still have deep feelings for him that you once said were not there."  
"No Erik. I do have feelings for Raoul. Of course I do! He's in many memories that are shared with my father. We were very close friends. I'll always feel something for him. What I told you was that I do not love him. And that is also something that will always be true."  
"Will it be true when he finds us? When he shows up like a Prince Charming and takes you into his arms to free you of the savage monster?"  
"Is that why you wont tell me where we are going? You think that they will find us and I'll tell them of your plans? Is that why you refuse to tell me anything?"  
"I tell you everything, Christine!"  
"Really, Erik? Then where are we going?"  
Erik lowered his eyes from her as he remained silent.  
"I thought so. Perhaps that is the true reason you are always looking after me - because deep down, you have no trust in me." She whispered as tears spilled from her eyelashes and coursed down her face that looked in deep pain. Wiping the tears away with the back of her hand, she stood up on the rock and jumped to land, then walked briskly to the horse. "You're in a hurry to - so lets go." She said stiffly.  
"I haven't given you your food yet."  
"Don't bother...I'm no longer hungry. My appetite was stolen from me." She said, not meeting his gaze. She heard him sigh, and stole glances of him running his fingers through his hair before completely turning her back on him.  
"It's because I love you." just his coarse voice sent shivers up her spine.  
"What?"  
"You said you think I'm always looking after you because I don't trust you. It's not you I distrust. It's my wicked fate. Even though we came all this way, and you found out about some of the most damaging points of my life, you still know little about my past. Let me fill you in now. Everyone whom I have ever loved left me. My mother, God rest her soul. She never would kiss me, hold me. Never wanted anything to do for me. But I loved her. She might not have known it...I used to tell her I hated her just as much as she told me, but I didn't. She meant everything to me in my young life. But her love was stolen from me by a no good doctor. And then years later I returned to her, only to find that she had died. She had been taken. In those years, however, when I was young and she hated me, I found love in someone else; my dog Sasha. Her name was my first word. She played with me when my mother would abandon me. Then she was killed when I was nine years old. Some horrid people beat her and stabbed me. I survived, but she didn't. She was taken. Luciana...I tried with all my willpower not to love her, yet my still foolish heart saw her beauty and her interest in me and did so. She died at my hand, whether Giovanni blames me or not. She was taken from me. Countless others I wish not name can be added to the list. And now there is you...I love you more than all the others combined. Therefore I fear what will happen. I fear you'll be taken too. And if you would...there wqould be no getting over you. That would be the end for me. I'd die. I'd give myself up the moment you left; let the Parisians torture and kill me, it wont matter. I wont feel it. With you, everything inside me would leave. I'd be nothing more than an empty shell; a shadow of the great man that once was. I watch you always, protect you; so I can make sure you're still with me. Never could I live without you. Those four years that you thought I had left, you were wrong. Never did I forsake you. I watched every one of your performances, even each small and silent role. I followed you as you walked the streets from job to job. I stood guard when you slept. I was always near you, because there was no where else I could go that my heart would allow. Nothing has ever changed from the moment I fell in love with you. I still need you; need you with me. Forgive me for watching you over my shoulder and staring at you through the day. I'm scared I'll lose you...for that is the one thing I could never handle."  
Christine looked at him through her still falling tears, stunned. Of all the things he could have said, never did she expect such a heartfelt one.  
Erik took a deep breath, then started to slowly walk to the horse. "Well...that was emotionally draining. Come, we must keep going if we are to reach where I want tonight."  
Christine nodded numbly, trying to let her mind register all she just heard. 

Christine found herself cursing Giovanni's generosity. Not only had he filled their saddle bags, but also added another bag and attached it to the back of the saddle, which made it even harder for the two passengers to sit. Christine tried to remain stiff and stay as far as possible from Erik's body, but it was near impossible to keep even a few inches from between them. His arm that was gently but firmly around her, urged her to relax so he could see better, but she held out as long as possible. Finally, with her back aching and begging for her to stop, she reclined into Erik and made it easier on them both. She watched in silence as the sun fell slowly behind the mountains. On other days, she would speak of all the glory in these sunsets that they found out here, but not tonight. Erik poured his heart out to her, but still, he had left all his plans out of it. Still, he did not let her know where they were going, or what he was thinking. Therefore, she wouldn't let him know what she thought either.  
Yet, just as the last part of the golden sun sunk below the majestic mountains, she felt his face next to hers, his chin resting on her shoulder.  
"Perros." He whispered in her ear.  
She looked at him, confused. "What about Perros?"  
He chuckled. "You ask 'what about Perros?' You, who has been tortured with the one question you've been begging me to answer?"  
She just shook her head, not understanding.  
"That's our 'destination' - where we are headed."  
"To Perros? Where my father's grave is?" She asked excitedly.  
"Well, not quite. We're heading to the outskirts of the far side of Perros. Your father is buried on the outskirts of the nearest entrance to the city. But I'm headed towards the cemetery now. If we keep this same pace, we should reach it tonight."  
"We're really going there?" She said with enthusiasm.  
"Yes. I suppose you know what today is, do you not?"  
Christine shook her head. She had lost track by now.  
"It's the anniversary of your father's death. Every year without fail you visit his grave."  
"That cant be tonight...it's on Thursday..."  
"Today is Thursday."  
Her mouth flew open, her breathing heavy. She was going to visit her father's grave? Impulsively, she reached up and kissed Erik's cheek, then relaxed into his shoulder. For the rest of the way, Erik wrapped both arms around her and held her tight as she slept peacefully, anxiously awaiting to reach the cemetery that Erik had promised they'd reach. 

"Christine, wake up now." Erik whispered, shaking her shoulder lightly. But Christine couldn't tell where she was or what was going on - her eyes opened to see nothing but the heaviest fog she had even been in.   
"Erik?"  
"We're right outside the gates of the cemetery. Don't worry, we're only in a dense part of this fog. It's clearer in the grave yard. I thought the horse should stay here...good cover."  
Christine nodded. She gave him a weak smile, then slid off the horse.  
"Just walk straight. You'll see the gates."  
Christine did so, and just like he said, the gates became visible. She opened them in a hurry, then started to run with anticipation. Erik tied up the horse, then went to slowly catch up to Christine. When he did, he saw her half way up the stairs that led to the top of the Daae grave. He watched as she caressed the cement step, tears flowing out of her shut eyes. Thinking he should let her be for a few minutes, he started to walk back when he heard hoof beats. Many hoof beats. Running now, he hurried to the horse. Untying the reigns, he led the horse to the west gate, closer to where Christine was, as he listened closely.  
"Search the graveyard." A gruff man's voice sounded.  
"Why a graveyard? What would they be doing there?"

"Hell if I know; but Vicomte de Changy ordered that this grave yard be checked tonight. Something about the girl's father dying on this day...however many years ago. As if the Phantom, or whoever he is, would be so kind as to say 'perhaps we should visit your dear dead father before we go on.' Really, someone should talk some sense into the Vicomte. None of our chiefs will though, I assure you of that. Not when he is now paying the bills."  
Erik ran into the graveyard, then quickly picked Christine up in his arms and ran back to the gate, just as he heard the officers at the North entrance main gate. He felt something pull him back, which only made him run faster. He put Christine on the horse, grabbed the reigns, and started to walk, leading the horse through the thick fog. A few minutes later, Erik could hear the officers' voices again.  
"There's no one here! The Vicomte was wrong...again." One young man said.  
"Are you sure? Checked behind every stone? He was so sure about this spot...he is expecting to have the girl home tonight. You found nothing?"  
"Well, we found this black piece of material by the side gate. But it could have been anyone's."  
"Could have been's is what will lead us to the criminal. You should know that by now."  
Erik looked at Christine's dress, but saw nothing missing. When he looked up at her face, he saw her terror filled red eyes staring down at something. He followed her gaze to see the bottom of his cape was missing a large chunk of material. Cursing under his breath, he jumped onto the back of the horse and kicked the horse into a gallop.After a while, Christine managed to calm down; to stop her heart from racing. Erik had enough to worry about; she didn't want to add herself to the list at the moment, even though she knew she would be anyway. After a while, she forced her eyes shut and drifted off into a deep sleep.   
"Christine...we're here." Erik said softly. Christine's dreams faded, and she instantly knew they were not moving. Yet she was still on the horse. Opening her eyes, she saw that they had stopped in front of a two story light blue house. It was on a poor neighborhood, and the house looked like it had been deserted for some time.  
Christine looked up at him, not sure what he was trying to tell her. "What's going on?"  
"We're here. We're at our first home."  
"Home? We're at home? You bought us a house?" She exclaimed in utter amazement. "You can not be serious!"  
"Of course I am serious. Nadir mailed out the letter to buy this when we arrived at his home. This house is legally ours. Luckily, no one knows my true name but a precious few who wont say anything. But yes, Christine - this is where we shall live for a while, that is, if we are fortunate."  
Christine just stared at the house, her mouth falling agape. It was run down, true - but it was a home! Their home! Suddenly, the house was the most beautiful one she had even seen.   
"Christine, please don't look like that. We may not stay long. Only until we are forced to leave again, which may not be long. The moment the officers get too close, this house goes back to the landowner."  
"I don't care." She whispered. None of that mattered now - they had a home! No matter how long, that fact still rang true to her.  
"Well, would you like to go inside, or shall we just stay right here until noon?"  
Christine grinned, then looked to the east. The sun, still below the mountains, were just pinking the dark sky. She nodded, wanting terribly to jump off the horse and run. But she settled herself, then readied to go in...to her own home.

Christine looked inside, her face full of wonder. The back door led them into the kitchen. Small in size, but it would be beautiful with some cleaning. The next room held the front door, along with a nice fireplace and a rocker.  
Inbetween these two rooms was a staircase. Christine hurried up the steps, Erik following more slowly. At the top, was a door, and two hallways on either side. She chose to open the door first. It was a pitifully small room, only about five feet in length, and four in width. A few holes marred the wood floors, and cobwebs and many other insects crawled inside. There was no light in this room either. Christine quickly shut it.  
"Once a storage room, I believe." Were Erik's first words since they came inside. She nodded, then went down the left hallway. Two doors were on the left side, faded paintings with cracked frames on the other. Upon opening the first door, she found a room that was obviously a woman's. It was furnished, everything either white or lavender.  
"I had them leave any furniture possible. These will do for now. I heard that it was newly funished just a few months before the old residents left." Erik commented. Christine looked around in wonder, then moved to the next room. It was a large walk-in closet, with many shelves and hooks. This room matched the bedroom. After seeing it all, she ran to the other hallway, which held a bathroom for both to use, and a man's bedroom.  
"Well...that's the house. Is it to your liking at all?" Erik asked.  
"Oh yes! It's wonderful! And with a little cleaning-"  
"No cleaning. Not for a bit. We want it to look worn down."  
"Why?"  
"You are my captive, not my maid. What captive does not willing go around gladly cleaning her prison, now does she?"  
She sighed. "I suppose you're right. How will we get food, though?"  
"Giovanni supplied us with enough food to last a few more days. After that, I'll send you into the village. You keep your head down. I'll have to find something you can wear over your clothes...we'll figure it all out when we come to it."  
Christine nodded wearily, her knees feeling as if they may give out at any moment.  
"Now, why don't you go get some sleep? We both need it terribly. When you wake, we'll eat."  
She started to turn and leave when she stopped and looked back at him. "You'll get some sleep too, wont you, Erik? You need it much more than I do. I don't think I can sleep unless I know that your being cared for as well."  
A grin tugged at his lips. "I shall try, my dear. You see, it's quite hard to sleep when there's many plans going on in your head, and your first priority is protecting a certain young lady whom is being hunted for quite closely."  
"That's sweet, but I rather you risk protecting me for a few hours than being exhausted when you really need your energy."  
Erik nodded. "I know. I'll get sleep if you will please leave me and do the same." He was serious about his statement, but yet humor was in his voice. She waved him a farewell, then headed to her new room.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Again, this story was my first - written months ago. Once more of my stories slow down, I'll go back and spell check everything. I never have time for a beta (nothing against them, but they're too slow! Why cant Beta's have no life and just stay on the comp 24/7? Sigh, so hard to find good help these days! LOL) so I currently beta my own stories. I am MUCH better at it now:D**

Christine woke to the bright golden sun sinking in the sky. She estimated that it must be late afternoon. Stretching, she walked to Erik's bedroom and opened the door, but he wasn't there. Quickly she ran down the steps and into the kitchen. She found Erik there, sitting at the table as he read a newspaper.

"So, you finally wake? You must be starved." Erik said, putting the paper down.

"I am. But I didn't sleep that many hours, did I? It's only mid-afternoon."

"It is mid-afternoon, but on the second day of our arrival. You slept all of yesterday away. You needed the rest, so I didn't wake you."

She looked at him in shock. Never had she slept so long in her life! "Did you sleep, Erik?"

"I did. Not as long as you, but enough to keep me well rested for a while." He answered as he put a plate of fruit before her.

She picked up an apple, what she was so used to eating by now, and starting to eat as she read the paper upside down.

"Anything interesting in there?" She asked, pointing to it.

"No. Not a word about us, either, thankfully. It's my hope that it will stay that way."

Christine nodded, then ate in silence, not thinking of anything else to say.

And so the day passed. At nightfall, Erik retreated to his room, still carrying that same paper. Something must have been oddly fascinating to keep his interest so long. But with him gone, Christine needed something to do. Finally, she decided on a bath. When she got out, she put on only the Don Juan outfit - feeling great to actually dress like a normal girl - with just one layer of outerwear. She found it very ironic as well - her wearing the Don Juan dress as she willingly chose Erik to win all her love; much the same as the play he had written. Shaking her head, she went to her own room and tried to fall asleep. No such luck; she had slept too much already. Instead, she got up again and decided to clean the downstairs from her boredom until she grew weary enough to fall into bed.Christine awoke a little passed dawn, which she figured was from habit. She quietly walked to Erik's bedroom, yet once again the room was vacant. Running down the stairs, she found him missing in those rooms too. Her heart was just starting to pound, her mind filling up with dreadful thoughts, when he walked through the back door, biting into a green apple.

"Where were you?" She exclaimed, thanking the Lord above that he was safe.

"In the stables. Had to feed Horse." He replied grumpily.

"Is everything alright?"

"It would be, if I wasn't seeing what I am, in here."

She looked around. What was making him angry? "I don't understand-"

"It's clean!" Erik yelled out loudly, nearly knocking the wind out of Christine with just his glare.

"I had nothing to do last night and-"

"I told you your not to clean this house! If they come, they'll suspect that you werent exactly miserable here! In their eyes, you must look in every way like you were miserable!" He roared.

"In their eyes? Why do you think like they'll catch us?"

"Perhaps it's because they have all the odds for them...and we have just about none! And don't tell me not to be pessimistic - last time I tried to be optimistic, we nearly got killed."

Christine looked at him like a wounded puppy as he began to rip things apart, and have dust fly everywhere; ruining everything she was so proud of last night. Those hours of working had been for nothing. She felt tears sting her eyes. Not wanting to let him see her cry again, she ran up the stairs and into her room.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Hunger brought her back down the stairs. Erik wasn't there, which this time, she thought of as a good thing. Perhaps if she stayed away from him today, she'd be on his good side tomorrow. She could only pray that this was so. Unfortunately, her prayers were once again overruled by fate, that had it's own mind.

She decided that she would cook up the food for this meal, and make enough for Erik to eat when he came back in, hoping that it would lighten his mood. She chopped up a few apples and other dried fruits - not all could she identify. Now, as she peered into the bag, she felt like blessing the old man. She found many spices in the bag that Erik had laid on the table. She grabbed a few of them, cinnamon and such sweeter ones, and stirred them until they were soft. She then put them on two plates, and cut a few slices of bread to go with it. Placing it just so, everything looked beautiful. She was just setting both plates on the table when the door slammed open.

"It's too late." He said drastically, thought to himself.

"What's too late, Erik?" Christine asked.

"Us. Escape. Living free. It's too late for those things now."

"Escape? From what?"

"From them, Christine! From the officers that now block every street corner!" He yelled angrily, throwing the newspaper onto the table, landing before her. She couldn't bring herself to look at it. Instead, she watched as Erik hid his face in his gloved palms and slid down the wall until he hit the floor. "There is no escape now." He was muttering. Christine felt her heart break in two as it sunk to her feet. They were going to be found out?

Erik was suddenly on his feet. Grabbing her wrist, he forced her up the stairs. Nearly tripping on her dress a few times, she cried out but he shushed her. It was not his words that silenced her, but the tears and broken -heart look on his face.

Only when he opened the door to that dirty, bug ridden room did she scream. "No Erik, please don't make me go in there!" She begged.

"They're coming, do you not understand? If they find you in a nice soft bed...will that convince them of your innocent later on? I assure you it wont! Go in, and stay there. No more screaming. And for God's sake, Christine - remember that you were kidnapped." He pushed her in, but she quickly turned around to through her arms around his neck.

"I'm so scared!" She whispered passionately. "Please hide yourself. Don't let them find you. They'll kill you! Erik..." She stopped. He stared back at her, but with total calmness. How could he be calm at a time like this? When she was shaking like a leaf?

"We knew they'd find us, Christine..."

"But not yet! Please, don't let them get you. Not yet. Do something! You're a great magician...surely there is something you can do!"

"Yet there is nothing. I am not that kind of magician. I can not poof myself anywhere I please. Now go, Christine. Before it's to late."

She looked straight into his green eyes. "I love you too much for you to die."

"Then I suppose I wont die." He whispered softly, kissing her forehead. When he pulled away, he shut the door on her, and she was submerged into darkness.

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	23. Chapter 23

**A/N - Thanks so much for all my reviews! Keep them coming! I really like the scenes from now on. There's something big happening with each chapter. Let me know what you think:D**

Christine wept heavily as she finally heard the much dreaded sound - loud banging on the door.

"Open up - police! We are searching all the homes of Perros, your home is in speculation particularly. Please open the door."

Christine laid down and looked through the hole in the floor. Directly below was Erik, sitting in the rocking chair, reading the paper as if it was a peaceful night without a care in the world!

"Erik!" She cried out. Why was he not hiding?

He looked up and gave her a deadly stare to tell her not to speak again. But the heavy sobs came and forbad her to talk anyway. Tears blurred her vision as she listened to the door slam open. Officers poured in, their shouts blending together. She quickly sat up and crammed herself against the far left corner, not being able to bear any more. She listened as they yelled at Erik, as he remained silent. Tears poured down her face and onto her dress like rain. Breathing was hard for her, yet not because of the stuffiness of the small room.

"You monster!"

Christine's head flew up from her lap when she heard those words shouted. Her heart was stuck in her throat. Had that been Raoul's voice? She knew that he was funding the search - but actually being a part of it?

"What did you do with Christine? Where is she? Talk, you animal!" Raoul shouted, so furiously, Christine was gasping for breath. Erik remained silent.

She heard a sword unsheathe.

"No!" She screamed involuntary before more sobs wracked her chest.

"Upstairs! She's upstairs!" Raoul exclaimed.

Christine listened as many feet pounded on the steps. She buried her face in her hands as she hunched over. She prayed that somehow they wouldn't find her; somehow she'd be spared a few more minutes. But yet again, her prayers were not answered, and the door burst open.

"Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, running to her and scooping her into his arms. She turned her head to his chest and sobbed. From his soothing mutters, she realized he thought she cried from fright and from relief. Never in his life had he been so wrong!

He brought her down the steps just as they were taking Erik out the door. He looked back to see her in the Vicomte's arms and winced. After that, he seemed to walk easily where they wanted.

_... "I fear you'll be taken too. And if you would...There would be no getting over you. That would be the end for me. I'd die. I'd give myself up the moment you left; let the Parisians torture and kill me, it wont matter. I wont feel it. With you, everything inside me would leave. I'd be nothing more than an empty shell; a shadow of the great man that once was."_

The words rang in her mind as she cried harder. She was being taken from him - not by death, but by her once not-too-long-ago lover. She could only imagine what he was feeling right now. Mentally, she was begging him to keep fighting, and not to let himself die.

Raoul was walking her to his carriage just as the doors on a wagon with bars over the small windows was being shut. Squinting, Christine could see a hunched over, defeated looking shape. She cried out, her heart swelled in pain and sorrow. She saw the figure flinch, but did not look at her.

_'He's dying...he's dying inside. God, help me. What can I do?_' she thought.

She couldn't yell to him - in everyone's minds she had to hate him. That made her utterly powerless. Feeling as defeated as Erik, she climbed into the carriage with the assistance of Raoul. He climbed in after her, then wrapped her close in his arms.

"Do not worry - nothing shall ever happen to you again." Raoul whispered soothingly to her. She laid her head upon his shoulder. Defeat was a draining and tiring emotion, and, coupled with the fact that she had hardly any sleep the night before, she let her silent tears fall down her cheeks until the rocking of the carriage lulled her into a fitful sleep.

Christine woke up screaming, clutching onto whatever was near her, opening her eyes, she saw it was Raoul's neck.  
"Shh, Christine. You're safe; I got you. No more dark dreams." He whispered. Blinking, she looked around. They were still in the carriage, but it was getting dark. "A storm is coming, you were not asleep that long." Raoul explained when she made a confused face.

Nodding, she turned her head to the window, looking out to a familiar looking village. Which one was this? Then she remembered...

"Raoul, I don't like storms, I never have. And this whole...ordeal...it made me even more frightened. Could we rent a room and stay in that little village?"

"Christine...there are many people awaiting your arrival. All of Paris has been searching for you."

She made a desperate look. "Please? I'm scared!" She said, hugging him close to her and hiding her face in his shoulder. She had to stop at that village!

Raoul looked at her hard, then nodded. "Alright, Christine. Anything you say. You must be quite shaken up already from everything you've been through. Driver - go into this village and search for a place to stay at for a while."

Raoul rented Christine a room in the small hotel, which she fled to.

"I'm going to freshen up. Please wait here, I wont be long." She said to Raoul, then ran to the steps. When he wasn't watching, she slipped out of the back door and hurried through the town until she saw the house with the broken balcony.

She pounded her fists on the door, trying to hurry before Raoul might catch her. The servant that had tended to her at her last visit opened the door.

"Miss Daae?"

"Is Giovanni here?" Christine asked; there was no time for manners.

"Oh...no he is not. Master giovanni passed on."

"Passed on? He is dead?"

"I am afraid so."

"When?"

"Well...I believe two and a half days ago. The very afternoon you left. He only lived to see Erik - that was all he was hanging on for. Now that he made his peace..."

Christine nodded.

"Is Monsieur Erik here?"

"No...he was...he was caught."

"Oh, how terrible!" The look on her face convinced Christine that she really felt what she said.

"It is."

"But how are you here?"

"I was kidnapped, remember? The good Vicomte is taking me home, but I asked him to stop here because of the storm. Speaking of which..."  
It was then when the sky opened. "I must go, Sarah."

"Oh, not yet! Give me one moment. Come in while you wait."

Christine did so. When Sarah came back, she carried a carpet bag. "This is for you. It's what Giovanni wanted Erik's...well, you, to have."

"What is it?"

"Oh. It's everything! Dresses, rose water, things you enjoyed here. I just added some cookies and muffins for your journey to remember us."

Christine kissed her cheek and thanked her, taking the carpet bag. Sarah gave her a blanket to cover Christine with to keep dry as well. Then, with one final goodbye, Christine dashed back to the hotel and to her room.

Not being able to part with the blanket, Christine folded it as small as she could, then found a way to shove it into the carpet bag with everything else. Then silently, she slipped quickly down the stairs and into the lobby, where she found Raoul waiting for her, studying the mantel piece.

"I'm ready." Christine said, tapping his shoulder. He smiled at her, until he noticed the carpet bag.

"Where did that come from?" He asked, pointing to it.

"Uh...I...someone recognized me. Gave it to me...for the trip home." Christine said, stumbling through a lie. She hurt inside, recalling how Erik said she never lied in her life. It wasn't that she ruined that statement, but that everything reminded her of him.

"The wagon...taking Er-...the Phantom back home...is that behind us or in front of us?" Christine asked.

"Behind, I believe. They'll go slower, since they have officers riding all around the wagon, and they'll need rest. But don't you worry about him, you're safe now. He'll never see you again, I'll make sure of it. But what were you going to call him before you said 'Phantom'?"

"Oh...I was going to say Erik, because..." Christine panicked. Why would she call him that? She couldn't think of an excuse! Her mind went blank!  
"Did he ask you to?" Raoul shook his head in disgust, growling in his throat. "He sickens me. I fear what all you had to endure, though I will not let a soul ask you a thing until you are good and ready to talk."

Christine smiled gratefully. She was grateful - that was she'd have plenty of time to think up every word of her made up story. She was never a liar before, but she would have to be now.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!**

Christine and Raoul ate in the dining hall and sat by the fire until the storm passed over within an hour's time. Then they were back on the road. But they traveled much faster than Erik and she had, and they soon reached another village just as the sky was growing dark.

"It's night time, Raoul. It's awfully dark. Could we get a room for tonight? I promise I wont be a burden one more time until Paris if you just allow this." Christine asked in her sweetest voice. Raoul didn't try to argue with her. Nodding, he called to tell the driver to pull into the village.

That night, when Raoul was sleeping in his bed and she was supposed to be, she snuck out and ran through the town, trying to find the right house. She found it in time, then knocked hard on the door.

"Nadir! Nadir, open the door!" She called desperately when he didn't answer.

The door did fly open after that, to see a bewildered Nadir standing before her. "Christine? What are you doing here?"

Her arms automatically flew around his neck, needing someone to understand her. "They took him, Nadir! They captured Erik! They'll kill him when they get him to Paris, if not before! You must do something!" Christine begged after he had shut the door.

"I do know about what happened. But what am I to do? I have no say in it."

"You're a daroga! Surely-"

"Was. I was a daroga, as you kindly pointed out last time you were here."

"But you believed Erik! You know he didn't do this! I am sworn under secrecy not to tell anyone that I went willingly with Erik. Therefore I can not stand up for him. I would, really I would. I don't care what they'd do to me, if it would save him. But it wouldn't, and he made me swear not to. Is there not anything you can do for him?"

"What would you have me do? I ruined my reputation for Erik once already. Therefore, they will not listen to me. They know I'm on his side."

"But there must be something! They'll murder him! Murder, Nadir - for this is not an execution. He did not do this crime! It will be unjust murder, what they do. And you know they wont just kill him; they'll torture him like a defenseless animal! They'll shame him, they'll put him where all can see and say horrible things - and he'll let them! He told me if they took me, he'd-"

"Please, Christine, do not make this more dramatic then it must be."

"This is no opera - I am not trying to be dramtic - but it is so! You lost your wife. You had an emptiness from that which you still have not been able to fill. I know that feeling now, and Erik is feeling it for the last time. He told me before that he will not fight. He has lost faith; I saw it in his eyes. He thinks there is no hope; which could very well be right, but still...oh Nadir, something must be done!"

He nodded. "I do not know what I shall do, but I will be in Paris late tomorrow afternoon. I will talk with the chiefs of police, and the judge. I'll try to make sure Erik at least gets a proper trial. Does that ease your worries at all?"

She nodded. "Knowing he has more than just one person on his side does, yes."

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How is it that the Vicomte allowed you to come here?"

"Oh, he didn't. He's asleep, and thinks I am too."

"He's not guarding you all too well, is he?"

"I assured him I wanted no one to guard me. I just want to be left completely alone."

"You are wise to add to your wit. But you best get back before he catches you."

Christine nodded. She started to walk away when she turned to him. "Thank you...so much."

Nadir nodded. "Anything. Go now."

With that, Christine left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Christine awoke come morning, she found Raoul missing from his room. She hurried down to the lobby, where she saw him talking with a man.

"Raoul?" She asked, wondering what he was doing. It was only dawn, afterall, and she had never known Raoul to be much of a morning person.

"Christine, you are awake early this morning."

"A habit." She said simply, turning her head from his angry face. Anything that she said that could refer to Erik, he immediately grew angry about.

"What are you doing?" She asked instead.

"My wound is not completely healed yet. This good sir is checking it."

"I see." Was her simple reply.

"Christine...perhaps you can enlighten me. The night this hotel was searched, a sword from the mantelpiece went missing. We found that a couple traveling together that matched your description, as well as that Phantom were said to stay here the same night. Did he take the sword?"

Christine panicked, knowing that Erik had indeed stolen it. But to say he had would make the death of the farmer that attacked them seem too likely that it was by Erik's hand.

"Not...not that I know of. I never saw a sword on him."

"What made you stay with him if there was never a weapon?"

"I stayed because he was always watching me. Never did I see him sleep. Besides that, he knows how to make punjab lassos, and there was plenty of rope around. Also, we were rarely near towns. I was lost; I didn't know where to go. I was too afraid to try to wander away by myself."

"Well...there was a strange accident of a farmer not far from here. Did the Phantom have anything to do with that?"

"Raoul, not everything that happens is Erik's fault! That's not fair; you're just like every other person." She said, losing her patience.

"Christine...you dont...have feelings for him anymore, do you? Surely after this you do not believe still in your Angel of Music imposter, am I right?"

"I know what happened better then you do; you need not remind me. And yes, I can not help but feel for him."

"To feel for him? You mean pity and compassion?" He asked, seemingly unbelieving that she could possibly be saying what she was.

"Yes, of course. Any person would if they knew him for more than a Phantom. And he is more than that, Raoul."

"God, Christine...do you love him?" Raoul asked, his face registering in shock.

"Raoul! How dare you say such a thing for me. To ask if I am compassionate to him is one thing, but to say that I love him? Here? Right after everything happened? You have went too far;completely overstepped your boundaries. I am disappointed in you."

Raoul bowed his head and took her hand. "Forgive me, I got carried away. I did not mean to sound so forceful .You don't deserve such, especially after all you've been through. I am sorry."

Christine nodded, taking her hand back. "When shall we leave?"

"Within a few minutes. Get your things ready."

That wasn't hard. She had yet to open the carpet bag, which was the only thing that she had to get.

Running upstairs, she tucked the pale pink carpet bag in her arms and ran down, eager to keep up with the wagon carrying Erik home.

Traveling with Raoul was much different than traveling with Erik. It was rare that a few minutes passed together in silence. Raoul seemed to enjoy saying how he got all of Paris rivaled up to find her. And how sleep was scarce to him while she was missing. Christine would nod and smile, but inside she was dying; her heart sinking lower. If Raoul wanted Erik dead, she was sure now that dead he would be.

"How is your wife?" Christine asked, anxious to get off the subject of Paris, hunts, and her Phantom.

"Oh, Amelia is wonderful. Recently we found out that she was with child."

"Really? You must be excited." Christine replied, yet her words were dull sounding.

"We are, especially little Katie. She wants a sister, but I would love to have a boy next. One to carry on after me, you know."

"Well, if it turns out to be a boy, he shall be very handsome indeed, if his traits are from his father."

Raoul smiled proudly. "Thank you. Christine...do you want to marry one day?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think so. I gave that up a while ago." True, a whole day and a half ago when Raoul came through the door to her new house.

An eternity to her, really.

"But why? You'd make the best mother. And you would have such beautiful children, Christine. You could marry the ugliest man in the world, yet your great beauty would reign. If the world was to lose you one day and not have a gorgeous heir of yours to go on by, it would be a very great loss indeed. You're still the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

Christine looked at him straight into his eyes. "Wouldn't the most beautiful woman you ever laid eyes on be your loving wife?" She responded quickly without the slightest blush or flattery taken.

Raoul chuckled and patted her hand, then looked out the window and was silent. Finally, she had succeeded in gaining a little peace. She turned from him to stare out the window and watch for the sight of a wagon with bars over it's windows.

"Did he make you wear that?" Raoul asked, shattering the silence. Christine sighed and looked over at him.

"What?"

"That dress. Did he make you wear that as a sick, twisted joke? As if he was Don Juan Triumphant? Or at least...was. He wont look very triumphant behind bars."

Christine looked down. She hadn't even noticed that she was still wearing that dress. She looked down, then to him. Shaking her head lightly in a 'I don't want to talk about it' fashion, she looked back to the window.

Tears formed in her eyes even as she shut them to rid her sight from the world.

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	25. Chapter 25

When Christine woke, she was no longer in the carriage. Instead, she laid on a white lace canopy bed in a beautiful room. But where was she?  
Just then a stout woman came in, carrying a tray. "Oh good, you're awake. The Master was getting worried that you were sleeping too long." She said.

"Master? Where am I?"

"Oh, dear child - do you not know? You are in the Vicomte's house."

"Why? Why am I not in the opera house dormitories?"

"That's the very question the missus asked too. But the Master would not allow it, saying it was not safe. Apparently at that time the criminal whom captured you was not yet behind bars."

"Where was he?"

"Who?"

"The...criminal?"

"Still on the wagon, I believe. Then they put him in the town square. Do not worry yourself, Miss - he has many guards watching him, as well as him being tied up."

"Why is he not behind bars?"

"They could not settle the people of the city down until the officers allowed them to see the great Phantom. He'll be in bars before nightfall, though."

Christine fell back against the pillows. She could picture him; his hands tied to a wooden pole. His head would be bowed, his black hair making a small shelter for part of his face to hide under. His eyes would be closed, and he'd be envisioning her...but would those envisions be of good times or bad? Of their first kiss, or when she was being held in Raoul's arms as the officers made him go out the other door. She turned her head away from the maid as tears trickled down her cheeks.

"You've been through a lot, I see. Well, I'm here to take care of you. Would you like me to start a bath for you?"

Christine shook her head. Baths always sounded lovely to her, but not now. She was happy as she was.

Looking down, she saw that she no longer wore the dress she had been for countless days. Instead, there was a white nightgown. "Where is my dress?"

"Oh, Master ordered that to be taken off you at once. I haven't a clue why, but he seemed real worked up that you wore it."

Christine sighed. "He didn't burn it, did he?" She joked.

"Oh, he tried. But the Missus said to let you keep the peasant dress."

Christine groaned, knowing fully now that the Madame de Changy didn't like any part of having her there in that house. "Please do not burn it."

"I'll take great care in washing it and returning it to you, Mademoiselle."

"Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Now, I was sent to tell you to eat this all, and get plenty of rest. I believe the master is sending for a doctor to examine you."

"Oh, please tell him to cancel it. I don't wish to be seen by a doctor; I'm very healthy, I assure you."

"Very well, I shall give him your message. But I will warn you; he is not easily persuaded out of his ideas."

Christine nodded with a frown. She knew that all too well.

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By the afternoon, she had seen little Katie sneaking into her room to ask questions about when she used to be on stage. Each time she was dragged out by a frowning, angry looking Madame de Changy, who would give Christine nasty looks whenever she saw Katie even coming close to the bedroom door. Madame de Changy had honored her with that horrid face six times. And the stout maid was in and out countless times. But never yet did she see Raoul, which unnerved her. Where was he? Attending to business as usual? But was it usual business, or was he arranging the murder of Erik so soon? The thought made her ball up and sob. Just what she needed - to cry more. Whenever she could find a moment of peace, Christine would cry to release some of the anguish in her soul.

Just as she was getting herself worked up enough to not be able to breath or speak, there was a knock on the door, following Raoul coming in.

"Christine? Oh, dear Christine, are you alright? I knew you shouldn't have been left alone. Perhaps you'd like to come downstairs? Katie has spoken of nothing but you. She agrees...she thinks you're the most beautiful woman that she has ever seen as well - and I said not a word to her before." Raoul went on with a smile.

"Where were you?" She asked, not caring for anything but Erik.

"I was out. Seeing how the officers are fairing and what they are doing to keep you utterly safe. You need not worry; I took that monster off the streets and made them put him in a solid jail with guards outside the bars at all times. You need never to worry again."

Christine swallowed, trying to get out her next words. "Thank you."

"Just doing anything I can for you to make you happy."

"I know something that would really make me happy."

"What is it? Anything, it's yours."

"I want to go back to the Opera Populaire. To my dormitory."

"Are you mad?" He exclaimed to her surprise. "You are shaken up; I am always seeing you cry. You have been through so much, yet you want to go where you were when you were kidnaped?"

"That is my life, Raoul. You know that. Meg, Madame Giry...the stage. I will work as I did before this happened. And I will go back to my room. As you said, there is nothing to fear...at least not from Erik."

"What is that to mean?"

"Raoul...your wife does not want me here."

"What did she say to you?" Raoul asked, jumping on the question as if he was shocked his wife could be anything but an angel to her rival, that was at the moment Christine.

"She has not uttered a word to me, that is not the problem. The problem resides in the way she acts; the way she looks at me. She makes it clear she does not want me here. And I can not blame her. She has every right."

"What would make you say such?"

"Raoul, I am your ex-fiancé! I am not the person that your wife would want to be around! I once held all your affection, accepted each of your kisses. She does not want me here again. Who knows...perhaps she thinks I am low enough to tempt you away from her. Either way, it is bound to cause a great disturbance. I wish not to be a burden. And I miss Meg very much. I want to go home. To my home."

Raoul's shoulders sagged as he nodded. What could he do but to accept her decision. It seemed to him that he should have learned by now that whatever she asked of him would hurt him and help her.

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Christine ran up the opera's steps as quickly as she could, holding her carpet bag in one hand, and carelessly waving goodbye to Raoul with the other. She burst through the doors to see Meg anxiously waiting for her.

"Christine!" She shrieked, running to her dearest friend. Christine dropped her carpet bag and hugged her.

"Oh, I was so worried for you, Christine! They had to cancel the last opera because I simply could not do it under such great stress. I am so glad that you are well and safe...and home!"

There was much Meg wanted to catch Christine up on. After she got through Meg's endless chatter, Christine went to her room and fell upon her bed, wanting sleep but her tears refused to grant it. Her torn up heart was not as easy to convince as Raoul was, therefore it went on hurting without end.

A few hours later, what must have been midnight, she heard a knock on the door.

It was Madame Giry's voice that followed by, "It's me, child."

"Come in, Madame."

It was not a sympathetic look on her face when she did come in. Crossing the room in graceful but long strides, she was soon standing before Christine's wearied form.

"Welcome home. I trust your trip was not too rough for you."

Christine looked at her confused. "Excuse me?"

"I know of your lies, Christine. I know you, and I know Erik, and I know you left with him, and willingly."

"Oh, please tell no one!" Christine panicked.

"It is not my place to say. You know I would do nothing to hurt the two of you. But Christine, have you heard the news of what is to happen to Erik?"

She shook her head. "Raoul refused to tell me."

Madame Giry handed her a newspaper. Christine cried out when she saw the picture of Erik. He was much like she had envisioned him - his hands tied behind his back, a rope around his chest, tying him securely to the wooden pole. His head was bowed, his hair hanging down in streaks. But his eyes were not closed. They glared longingly into the camera. Those tortured eyes stared right to her soul as she looked at that picture. "Did you see him today, before they put him in the jail cell?"

Madame Giry nodded. "I saw him, and he did see me. I was passing to go to the market."

"What did you do? Did you say anything?"

"I said nothing. I looked at him casually, then walked away."

"But how could you? You love him; why treat him as nothing?"

"What would you like me to do, Christine? I have stood up for him all my life. I have made excuses for everything he does. I have gotten him out of all the trouble he purposely got himself in. I am through. There is nothing more I can do. I will not ruin my daughter's reputation to just make more excuses for Erik. If by some miracle I could get him out of this, he'd be in the same position this time next month. I am through with it."

Christine said nothing. Instead, she started to weep heavily. "Do not sit there and cry like a little girl, Christine! You shame me and you shame Erik when you act like such."

"What is there to do?"

"You love him still, Christine. You go help him."

"I cant. He has me under a vow of secrecy."

"Then comfort him. Talk to him. Ease his pain. If you love him, you will not ignore his needs so you can lock yourself in this room. This is when he needs you most. Go to him."

"Madame...do you know his sentence?"

"It has not been decided yet; the trial is to last until tomorrow afternoon. But I think what both of us fear will very soon become his reality."

Christine wiped the wetness from her face with her sleeve. "Then I will go to him tomorrow night."

"Good. But in the meantime, I want you up and about. You have caused my daughter great stress. She has an opening night coming up on Friday, to make up for last week's cancellation. She will not go on this time either unless she is sure you are fine. She does not know the truth. Make her believe you are fine. Help her through the day, then cry at night behind close doors, if you must. Is that clear, Miss Daae?"

Christine nodded in reply.

"Good. Then get some sleep. You'll be waking at dawn; and I don't want you sleeping in like you always try to do. You'll be waking; if not by your own will, then by my switch."

"Yes, Madame."

Madame Giry nodded, then, taking one look back at the girl, shut the door and left.

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The next day, true to her word, Christine awoke before everyone else and readied herself for the day. She did her best to put all thoughts of Erik away, yet his face and beautiful eyes always stayed with her. Through the day she followed Meg around, tending to her needs, and doing fittings for different costumes that she would need over the next few months.

Now clad in a sensible white blouse and dark blue skirt instead of a dirty peasant costume, Christine felt right at home, even though her heart longed to go back to that house that she knew for too short of time.

At lunch time, Christine and Meg departed company. When Meg did not return to her, even hours after the break was over, Christine decided that she would work on getting the blood stains out of the seams instead of continuing the fittings. Why could her fingers not adjust to this type of work?  
For many hours she carried on with her lonely work, until it was dinner time. She was heading to her room to change when she saw Madame Giry.

"Madame, where is Meg? I haven't seen her since noon." Christine asked.

"She is not feeling well, so I sent her to bed. She now doubts that she'll be able to pull off this opera now."

"But I have not cried a single tear, or even frowned once!" Christine exclaimed.

"No, my child, it was not your fault. She fell ill with laryngitis, therefore she can not sing. Perhaps that is a reason why she wants to see you..."

"No." Christine suddenly said in a grave voice.

"No what?"

"I will not take her place. The two of you may ask me, but I will not do it. My job now is doing nothing more than silent roles or being a dancer in the backround. I no longer play back up to the leading prima donnas. Both times I did that for Carlotta, it ended in nothing but misery and five minutes of fame. No, Madame."

"At least see her. She missed you very much while you were away."

"I will see her, but please, work on finding a replacement for her. As I stand before you I swear that I wont be in that opera."

Madame Giry put her hand gently on Christine's cheek. "There are no replacements for my two daughters." She said with a smile, then walked away. Christine loved when she felt like she belonged to Madame Giry, but hated when the woman reminded her at times like this. The ballet mistress knew how it melted Christine's heart.

Sighing, Christine changed directions and headed to Meg's room.

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	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Tomorrow is the end of my three day weekend, so updates will be slightly slower after this, which is why I'm updating so quickly. Enjoy, and the next chapter will be put up as soon as I can get to it. :) After all, the end is almost here!**

Later that night, when the moon was full in the sky, Christine ran into Madame Giry once again.

"Oh, Christine, did you speak with Meg?"

"I did. And do not stand there and act as if you did not hear my answer already; I know you found out. I'll be the lead, and start practice tomorrow. She would not tell me what the opera is until she is sure I am signed on. That frightens me, but what can I say? I can not deny Meg."

"Can you deny Erik?"

"Deny him? What do you mean?"

"You have not been to see him yet."

"I have been busy. You may trust me when I say that no one has ever wanted inside that jailhouse more than I do. Madame Giry...has a sentence been reached?"

The aging woman nodded. "They have."

"Do you know of it then?"

"Yes. But I will not be the one to say it to you. Go to Erik, let him speak it for himself."

Christine looked as if she was going to beg Madame Giry for an answer better than the one she gave, but then decided against it. Instead, she grabbed a long black cloak from her room and ran down the halls and out of the opera house.

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Christine knew she would be punished if anyone saw her, but she didn't care. Even this late at night, she didn't care. She ran down the streets like a madman. She wasn't running to the jail, she was running to her Erik. With the memory of his picture on the newspaper, she ran even faster.

She covered the few blocks within little time, and ran inside the gloom-stricken jailhouse.

"What's a lass like ye doin' here?" A man with a Scottish accent asked her at the front desk.

"I'm here to see Erik Destler."

The man looked up and down many papers before he shook his head. "No Erik Destler here."  
She sighed. "How about a Phantom of the Opera?"

"Ah, now that we have. Why do you ask for a Monsieur Destler?"

"Because it happens that the Phantom has a name."

"And do you, little lass, have a name?"

"Christine Daae."

He looked at her confused for a moment, then nodded. "You're the one that he kidnaped, aint ye? What are you doing here to see him?"

"The reasons of my visit are my own. Now, will you lead me to him?"

"Aye. Follow me."

Down the dark corridors they walked until he stopped at a large door. "Behind here, Lass." He said, opening the door. There was a small hallway where three guards with guns sat on chairs. And then there was the bars, and a sark room behind them. She ignored that part of the place.

"May I be left alone with him? I wish not that my words be overheard."

"We wouldn't think of you will any less respect, mademoiselle; no matter what you say. We are here for visitor's protection." the one young guard asked.

"Thank you, but there is no need to worry. Now please...?"

The guards did leave, but before the Scottish officer shut the door, he said one last thing. "Name's Neil. If you need anything, just give me a shout." He said, then disappeared behind the door.

Christine awaited a few moments after she heard the click, then took a deep breath and turned to the dark room .Erik was in the corner, sitting upon a single bench, hunched over with his hands over his face.

"Erik, I know you heard my voice and know I am here. Pleasecome over to me."

He didn't move. Not even a flinch to let her know that he acknowledged her presence. "Please, Erik? All I've done since I departed from our home was think and dream of you. All I've done so far is cry and sob; mourn over what could have been and what they are putting you through. I need you now. I'm no longer used to being away from you. I feel like something is constantly missing from me, and then I realize that it's you. Talk to me, Erik."

Still, nothing but his breath becoming heavier. She was affecting him, even if he tried to hide it.

"Look, Erik. I stand before you. Just feet away. I have not been taken away, only separated by bars. It is you whom have been taken from me, not the other way around. Come to me, Erik. I need you here with me; to speak to me or I'll surely go mad!"

It took a moment or two, but finally he did mutter something directed to her, let she could not hear it. Upon asking him to repeat it, he said, "They have taken my mask."

"I don't care! Please, I've seen you without it before. You do not need to wear it in my presence. Come over here."

He sat still, until finally her tempting voice got the better of him. Slowly his hands sunk to his sides as he stood and walked to her, head bowed.

Quickly she reached her arms in through the bars. He took her small hands into his, his grip tight on them, as if they were his lifeline. Perhaps they were.

"Madame Giry said that the court gave you the sentence, yet wouldn't tell me what. Erik..." Suddenly, with the churning of her stomach, she realized she didn't want to know. But by then, it was too late.

"Death. They gave me death."

Christine quickly looked away. She tried to take her arms away, but Erik grabbed them tighter and pulled her closer to the bars. "Do not turn away from me, Christine!" He said feverently, now looking at her straight in the eye.

She gave him her most sorrowful look. "Have you seen Nadir? Did he try to persuade them?"

"He is here, and yes he did try. He got them to give me a court hearing, but that's the extent of his abilities. He talked to me as well. Told me that you got him to come."

Christine nodded. "I needed someone to help you if you were going to forbid me to."

"As I do. Not a word to anyone."

"Madame Giry knows. I didn't tell her, she always knew."

"Of course. I meant besides her. She knows us both too well."

"She wont help because of Meg."

"It is not just because of Meg. She is tired of caring for me. She probably can not wait until I hang from the rafters or am shot dead; it will be weight lifted from her shoulders."

"Erik, do not speak like that!" Christine cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Forgive me. I know you are in a fragile state right now."

"You say such as if you do not believe that I should be."

"You shouldn't. I wish nothing more than you turning your emotions from me as the Madame has."

"How would that help you at all?"

"It wouldnt. It would kill me to know that you do not feel for me anymore. But it would be help to you. Perhaps you shouldn't be here, Christine. You should use this week to get used to me gone."

"Erik!" Christine screamed as if he had slapped her. Her knees were so wobbly now she felt they'd surely give out. "Please do not speak like such!"  
"Go back to the opera house, Christine. Go live as you used to."

"As I used to? I have always known you, Erik! You have always been my most beloved friend! How can I go on like I used to if you are absent now?"

Erik put his face closer to hers, which was very close to the cold bars. "Go, Christine. And do not come back. I don't want anyone believing that what you say is not true. Go now; you've spent too much time here as it is." He whispered, as if begging.

"But Erik-"

"Go!" He said this in his previous tone, but more forceful. Wiping the tears away, she let go of her hold of him after he did of her.  
"I love you. I shall always love only you." She whispered before opening the door and leaving him behind as he wished it.

It had started to rain while she had been in Erik's cell, but Christine hardly noticed. It helped to mistake her tears for simple rain drops.

Slowly she walked home, feeling so defeated. No wings fluttered in her chest to reach her destination now. Only a heavy weight that threatened to pull her down. The same heavy weight that made her careless and to keep stumbling.

It was grim weather for a very grim mood

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.The next morning Christine rose with a yawn, not wanting to face the day, but to sleep it away until this nightmare of stolen love was over, and she'd wake once again in that blue house not far from sea in Perros. She'd awake, yes, one day she'd have to awake. But just where she would wake remained the question.

Suddenly, her senses became alert, and she felt as if it could be quite late in the day. She ran to the window and pulled back the crude curtains to see the sun up quite high in the sky. She had over slept many hours! Shocked that Madame Giry had not come in yet with her ballet switch and awakened her, she dressed quickly in a white blouse and a deep red skirt; symbolizing, in her own way, her bleeding heart.

She shoved her small feet into dancing shoes and ran, not even bothering to put up her mass of curls. Instead, they flew behind her as she dashed down the hallways and lobby, all filled with sunlight.

Finally, she reached her destination, bursting through the theater doors. Everyone inside that were practicing stopped. Even Madame Giry froze in place to stare. At first, Christine looked puzzled. Then she started to see...

A handful of the men and women dancers were dressed in all black, from head to toe. The others dressed in peasant clothes.

'It couldn't be' were the words that ran over and over in her mind. She had started to believe them, until she looked elsewhere besides the dancers.

Two winding spiral staircases. A makeshift bridge in between. A red backdrop. It couldn't be...yet it was.

Christine closed her eyes, trying to shake the feeling of faintness that was coming on strongly. This wasn't happening. This wasn't what she signed up for!

She was sure she would have ended up crumpled on the floor within moments if a pair of thin arms hadn't wrapped lightly around her.

"I'm not doing this. I wont. Meg never said anything about this opera! I would have done any for her - but not this one. This is going too far." Christine whispered, her voice as shaky as her body.

"I am sorry that you must do this. I can only imagine how painful it is for you. But you did sign on. The managers heard the news, and put your name on the tickets that went on sale today. It's already nearly sold out. They went on sale only hours ago!"

"I don't care! I wont do this! No, Madame! Not for all the fame in the world, nor all the money. No!"

"Christine, there is no other to play this part."

"Then put on a different opera. I'll do any other, I know them all. But not this."

"That can not be. The patrons have been asking for the Populaire to reprise Don Juan for years. You must have known that already. But now they threaten to pull their money out if we do not listen."

"Raoul did not say such."

"No, he didn't. But he is only one of the patrons, and we can not survive on his money alone. Christine, if this opera does not go on, the patrons will leave, and the Populaire will shut down - all of us will have lost our jobs and homes. Already, this opera house holds a bad reputation for canceling so many shows already. If we do it again..."

"I am very sorry to hear this news, Madame Giry, but it just is not possible. Do you not see? Everyone says that I have never acted better before that show. Don't you know why? No, surely you do. You can not tell me you don't! I was not acting, Madame! Erik put so much true passion into every word he sang - and I played off of that - not as Aminta; but as me! Me! I lost my sense of character the moment he stepped onto the stage. I don't know how to act that opera; because I never did before. Last time those words I sang came from my heart, not Aminta's."

"Christine-"

"And how would you have me do this, may I ask? To perform the opera that Erik labored over for years; the opera he wrote about me, while he rots in a jailcell? No, he wouldnt be rotting in his cell - I read the paper today. He'll hang for the sport of every villagers' eyes to see on Friday at sundown. This show is to be held late evening on the same day. I would sing our duet with some unknown man as he dropped to his death! No! No, I will not do this!" Christine screamed, not being able to take anymore.

She unlaced her ballet shoes as quickly as she could, then shoved them in Madame Giry's hands. Never had she been so rude to the elder woman, but she had stepped too far this time. It hurt even more to know that she knew how Christine and Erik felt. How could she try to make Christine do this?

Turning on her heel, Christine ran back out of the theater.

Christine was just walking to the lobby as she put on her black cloak to go for a walk to clear her dizzy head when she spotted the managers coming towards them. Quickly, she turned and walked the other way, back towards the dormitories.

"Miss Daae! Do not turn from us; we only wish f or a moment of your time. Please allow us to speak to you." Monsieur Firmin called. Christine paused, wondering what to do. Finally she walked back to them, knowing full well they'd follow her to her room and beg at her door for hours until she listened.

"You may speak; but nothing you say will change my mind, since I trust you have heard the recent news of me."

"We have heard you want to pull out. But Mademoiselle, we beg you to reconsider. It will be the doom for us all; even your friends, the Giry's. You would not have them cast to the street with no home, would you?" Firmin asked.

"I do not like your threats, Monsieur, nor will I accept them. Please leave me if that is all you wish to do with my time."

"We do not, forgive us. But Mademoiselle, you are our last hope. No one could do this opera but you. You are the only soprano diva able to pull off such a show. It is your true talent."

"I am the only one? Meg was signed on to do it first! And it is not my talent that will be showcased. Do not try to belittle me with your words, thinking I am as dumb as most of the ballet rats are; I assure you I am not. It is not my talent people are coming to see; but it is my name. Everyone knows me now, not for what I love to do, but for what has happened to me lately, as well as the last time this show was played. What has happened over the last two weeks to me may be your chance to rejoice in my unwanted attention, but it was very hard on me. And everyone forcing me to do this opera is really too much, and really not fair of any of you."

"We would not ask of you such hard a task if we did not truly need of it. But this will be our ruin if you decide not to go through with this. Think, Mademoiselle, of your friends. Of the home where you grew up. Of your family's wishes come true. Think of those things before you let us fall." This was Andre's comment, put in more forceful of terms. Instead of answering to their blackmail, Christine pushed between them angrily and walked out of the opera house.

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	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Not too long until the ending now...**

"They want you to do what?You did not agree to such madness, did you, Christine?" Erik yelled in anger after Christine told him of the managers' ideas.

"I did, before I knew all the facts. Meg did not tell me it was to be your opera I would be performing. I now told them no, but they say the Populaire will be shut down if I do not go on. I'm so confused! I don't know what to do! Not doing it would betray Meg and Madame Giry; all the girls I have ever known there...but to do so would betray you. All I've ever wanted was to make everyone happy. How am I to do so now?"

"Perhaps you should know something that I learned many years ago - you can not please everyone, Christine. It is an impossibility, even for you."

"But what should I do?"

Erik looked away. He was breathing heavily, his jaw set. Anger was boiling in him. "Do they really think that they could ever hope to pull this off? Why? Because the opera house will not burn down this time? The new chandelier will not fall? Because the Phantom of the Opera is now behind bars? Now all is safe? Do they forget that the only one who can do justice to Don Juan is also behind these bars? Can they really think you could ever show such emotion again? Could you be Aminta to another man?" He was near roaring when he finished, now looking directly into her soul.

"I told you I don't want to. Yet I don't know what to do!" She cried, watching him bow his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. She had brought more worry and stress upon him- something that was not what he needed in any sense.

"I"m sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it. Forgive me." She said, walking to the door.

"No. Do not leave just yet unless you truly want to. Stay with me a little longer." He asked of her before she could open the door. She turned back to him, and he grabbed her hands again and held them tight. Her legs felt wobbly once again, so she knelt down, Erik following as t o not lose her hands from his grasp.

"May I ask you something?" She spoke after a few moments of silence.

"What is this be?"

"Those four years, after the fire...you said you were there all the time watching me. So why were you so angry at me when I found you at the homeless shelter? That was not all from your pride."

Erik let out a low chuckle. "Because I wanted to keep you away. I didn't want you to get involved with me again. I cause you more trouble than I am worth. I feigned anger against you in hopes that it would discourage you and leave me to only haunt each step you take." He said, taking both her hands in one of his, and moving his other to rest upon her pale cheek. "Yet I am no ghost or phantom. I am a man, and my weaknesses are too strong. I saw you that night, crying in your room. I read your note. I saw how you missed me...possibly wanted me in your life once again. And I knew then that I couldn't keep up the act of being angry at you. Never could I stand to see you cry, but how worse it was when I was the reason for the tears you shed. I came to you that night, because my weakness took hold of the better of me - for I never stopped loving you. And my heart was the only thing leading me. When you saw me, you filled me with light, where there was only dark. It was impossible to listen to that voice...the common sense part of me, when that light traveled through me...made me a man once again. It was then that I remembered just how great my love was for you." His hand found it's way to her cheek once again. She leaned into it as her eyes closed. He kissed her forehead, cheeks, lips. Never had he spoke or shown emotion like this. As much as it thrilled her that she was the cause of all this; the cause of everything he does, and all his love - it also scared her. He was acting as if he'd never see her again. Even scarier was the fact that he may be right. What if something happened? What if someone wicked wouldn't even let him live until Friday? His voice broke her out of the thoughts that started to make her tremble.

"Play Aminta." He whispered, pulling away from her only slightly. Her eyes flew open to look into his.

"What?"

"Reprise your role in my opera on Friday. Play the role I wrote for you. That way I know what you'll be doing each minute. I'll know what you are singing, and I'll hear it in my heart. Let another man woo you as Don Juan, but you'll sing each word for me, to me, and I shall see you with my mind's eye. I'll die listening to your sweet voice singing the words I wrote. And I'll die a happy man, knowing all this."

Tears spilled into his hand as she leaned into it more, closing her eyes once more. "What time on Friday?" She whispered. Thankfully, he knew what she was speaking of, for never would she have been able to say it.

"Five; sundown. The bells will ring just before."

"But why Friday? Never had I heard...it happen on such a day. Sunday, yes. Saturday if something big is happening the day after. But never Friday."

"Sunday is the Sabbath for Christians and Catholics. Saturday for others. Friday is also a Sabbath to some, but only after sunset. I'll be dead before the last ray of sun has gone."

"What does Sabbath have anything to do with it?"

"They think me the devil's apprentice, or the devil himself; depending on whom you talk to. They fear it would be a sin to have dealings with the devil on Sabbath. Therefore they'll send me to hell on Friday instead. It's sooner to rid of me, anyway."

Christine's arms flew around him, holding him tight through the bars. "I wont let you go...I wont let them do this!"

"I am an Angel in Hell here; there I'll be just in hell. Only difference really, is that you'll never be there."

She shook her head. "You were never an angel in Hell. You were my angel of music, my angel of everything. Despite all you did and all you heard, you are not evil. You are a man that has been driven to do desperate things. Perhaps you've done wrong things, but all of us do. Its only magnified for you because you were once a phantom of Paris. You were blamed for more than you did. You are not evil; you are...you are my hero; my protector. You are my love, my life. You are the only one that truly understands all of me. You are my guardian, and my guide. You are everything to me, but you are not evil. You are not going to hell, nor heaven. You're to stay beside me. I told you once that at one time for many years we were one person. With all the things that has happened, we are one again. You said that if I am taken from you, you would die. Do you not see that it goes both ways? I am not being taken from you; you are from me. And I shall surely die inside if you do. Erik...I don't want to die, and I don't want you to die either. So I'm going to save you. I don't know how yet...if Madame Giry will not stand up, Meg is not able to know, and Nadir is deemed powerless...but there must be someone that can help in this. There must be some way to get you out of here. Fate can not possibly be this cruel."

Erik laughed lowly. "Have you taken a look at me lately? Do you remember nothing from my past? Of course fate can be cruel; as you are only now finding out."

"You have no hope at all?"

"What is there to give me hope? I rather die knowing that you are safe, then to die knowing that you are exposed and I am leaving you in misery."

"You will leave me in misery either way! Can I not be freed of this vow of secrecy that binds you to this cell?"

Erik shook his head. "No. I have done wrong by you by letting you love me, and letting you embark upon such a risky journey as I did. I failed to protect you then; but I will not fail now. Speak not a word to anyone, Christine. I have made many requests of you, I know that. Forgive me for demanding so much. Make this my last request; say nothing!"

At that, there was a knock on the door. Christine quickly released Erik as they both stood up. The door opened, and an officer peered his head in.

"Mademoiselle Daae, your time for today is up."

Christine nodded. "I will be right out."

The officer left, and Christine went back to the bars. Erik kissed her forehead once more, and then she slowly left, staring back at him for as long as she could.

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Christine, with red eyes, hesitated, her fist in mid air, before bringing it down on the door.

"We are closed to all visitors now. Come back in the morning." Andre yelled.

"It's Christine Daae."

Within mere seconds the door was flung open. "Mademoiselle Daae! Forgive me, I did not know it was you. Never would I turn you out." He said, showing her in to the managers office and shutting the door.

"I've decided to play the soprano lead in Don Juan." Christine said.

"Really? How wonderful! We really hoped you'd reconsider. Our entire business depends solely on you now."

"I can not promise that I'll be at my best, Monsieur. It will be a very difficult day for me."

"Of course, of course. But I rest easy, knowing that you shall be just fine, despite the other events occurring."

"Then you have more confidence than I do.

"  
"You will be wonderful. Now, is that all you came here for at such a late hour?"

"It is. Forgive me, I thought that I should notify you as soon as possible."

"You did right. Good evening, Mademoiselle."

Christine nodded a goodbye, then left the office, running to her bed. It would prove to be a very long night.

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Christine did not know how she made it through the next day. She was weary and red eyed. Erik filled her mind, as well as how close it was to Friday. Just one day. Tomorrow. It couldn't be!

"Mademoiselle, I have a letter for you." A man in a grey uniform that worked in the lobby said, holding a gold tray with a letter for her.  
"Thank you." She said, taking it. Upon finding an empty corner behind stage, she opened the envelope and read the letter.

_'Dear Mademoiselle Daae,  
I write to you, for I do not know how to reach Monsieur Erik.  
The will of Giovanni was read today, and it seems that Erik  
has inherited my Master's house, and everything in it.  
Included in the envelope is the deed. Until Erik comes  
to claim it, the servants shall leave the home to seek out  
temporary jobs, but will return the day we are called back.  
I have heard little of his fate, just enough to know that  
both of you are back in Paris. I hope everything works out  
for you. You both are in my prayers.  
In you service,  
Sarah Butler_

Christine read the letter over and over. Erik had the deed to Giovanni's house. She had hoped that this letter would be the answer to her own prayers. What good would a house do to a dead man hanging in the gallows?

Fury and hurt welled in her until rehearsals were over. It was quite late, past supper time when Christine left the theater, but there was one last task that she had to accomplish before she allowed herself to eat. Carrying herself on aching legs, she found a carriage to take her to her destination. She wrung her hands in and out as she sat, watching the grim look of the damp and darkening Paris streets go by.

Finally, the carriage stopped, and she stood before the large mansion of a home once more. Gathering courage, she paid the driver, took a deep breath, then hurried to the porch.

She was just about to knock on the door when it opened to reveal Raoul, apparently ready to leave.

"Christine?" He asked in a puzzled voice.

"Raoul, I must speak with you. I see you are leaving, but it will not take too much of your time, I promise. It's very urgent."

He nodded, taking off his gloves and showing her inside. "Of course."

He took her into the parlor and sent away his servants so they were alone. "What is it that plagues you so, Christine?"

"It's Erik. Are you sure we are completely alone, Raoul? Not a soul can overhear this."

"My wife and daughter are out shopping today, my maids are gone for the night, and my servants I sent to their quarters. I assure you there's not a soul here by us. What is it that you must say about the phantom?"

"I must say the truth. He has forbad me to say a word to anyone, but I must."

"Do not let him threaten you. If there is something you must say-"

"No, Raoul, you do not understand. He didn't want me to say anything for my own protection, not his. See...I was...I was not kidnaped by him. I went with him; begged him to take me. I had searched for him all those years he was missing, and found him the day before you were hurt-"

"You left with him? With the man that tried to murder me?" Raoul asked in shock, taking a step back from her.

"He didn't do it! I am not innocent in everything that has happened lately, but he is. He did not kidnap me, and he did not try to kill you."

"You...just believe his word? As if he has never lied before?"

"Raoul, he never did lie to me before. And I can tell. There are many masks in this city that are exactly like the one he wears. You know that. He didn't do it. He had no reason to! We are not lovers any longer. I do not love you as I once did, and you do not either."

Christine continued, even though she thought it strange - the way he looked at her after she said those last words. "The truth is...is that I love Erik very much. Not my angel of music, not my protector - but just him. Who he really is. But he is to be hanged tomorrow for things he did not do! You are my only hope for saving him. Tell them that you can not be sure it was him. At least postpone this cruelty until we can find who really did it. Do not let him hang, Raoul! I beg of you!"

Raoul just stood there, stunned by all he had heard, trying to make sense of it in his mind.

"You...love him?" He said finally. Christine sighed. This would be harder than she thought.

"Is that all you have to say to my pleadings? I know you could not understand, and I don't expect you to. I know what he did to you the night of the opera house fire, but you saw a part of him that has died now. He's not cruel. He's a very amazing man, and if only people would get to know him instead of just condemning him, he wouldn't be getting hanged tomorrow. Raoul, please help me."

He continued to stare, even then, as if he never saw her before in his life. "How can I help you, Christine? How could I do anything?"

"You can postpone this! You are one of the most influential men in Paris! Tell them you can not be sure if Erik has committed this crime! Please, Raoul!"

"But I cant, Christine. Katie has nightmares every night, scared to death that someone will break in. Amelia is pregnant, which makes her even more edgy. She has to make sure every door is bolted and locked before she can go to our bedroom to lock that door. I have to sleep on a davenport each night, to stand guard. If I postpone this, it only means this madness that has evaded my perfect would will go on for God only knows how long. Chances are, if what you say is really true, that the officers will not find the criminal."

"They found us! I was all the way in Perros!"

"But that had a face to hunt down, Christine - it's different."

"So you'll let him die, even if he does not deserve it, just so your family can live under the false security that they are safe?"

"...Yes, if I must. I'm sorry."

"Have you learned nothing? Could you possibly be that thick headed?" Christine yelled, suddenly losing herself. "You put me at risk to be taken from you forever, back when we were to be wed. You gave me false security - you said that officers would be at the theater that night to ensure that nothing would happen to me - and I believed you! I had faith in you! But you let me down. Had things gone the way Erik planned them, I would have had to marry him before I loved him - just so I could save you! That would have ruined my life at the time, yet I was put in that position because I trusted you! Because you said you had it under control, because you said I was safe! Well, I wasn't safe! And even if you do let Erik die, neither will be your family. This man, whomever he is that did it to you, is not looking for simple marriage. Obviously he is not afraid to kill. But no, let's ignore that fact. Let's make it all go away with a simple illusion! Forsake me, ignore my desperate pleas to keep the man I love alive - just so you can have your illusion!"

Raoul stepped forth and took her hands, seeming as if he was studying them. Suddenly, he pulled her to him, holding her tight. "I am so sorry to bring you sorrow, but I can not help you. I love you very much, but I have a family that I love very much as well. I can not keep them thinking they are in danger. Forgive me of my sins, Christine, but do not hold this against me." he whispered in to her hair, his warm breath falling upon her cheek as well.

Christine looked up at him with a questioning look, her dark eyes searching his.

"Come Christine, you can not stand there and think that I do not still love you."

"Raoul? What are you saying? Could you be drunk and out of your senses?"

Raoul laughed. "Have you not outgrown the innocent act yet?"

"Why did you marry your wife if you do not love her?"

"I do love her. I love her now...but I did not when I married her. Why did I? I married for her status. You surely know how my parents were furious at me when we two were engaged. When you broke it off, you made me a fool in their eyes. They had me meet with Amelia; whom they said was my perfect match. I listened like an obedient son, and after time, I learned to love her. But never has even an ounce of my feelings perished for you. It is not as easy for me to switch people to love as it apparently is for you."

Christine stepped away. "This is wrong. And obviously you will not help me, will you?"

"I can not."

"Then I will say goodbye." She said, but when she turned, she saw the one person that hated her with a passion already.

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	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: And we trudge along...**

"Vicomtess de Changy." Christine said with the bow of her head praying that she had just come in. "I was just on my way out."

"Really? So you are through trying to lure away my husband?" The tall woman's voice was cold and hard.

"I did nothing of the such. Just asking for a favor."

"What is that? For him to leave me so you can have him once more?"

"Madame, I have no intentions. I do not love your husband. If you wish to know what the conversation we held was about, I think you should ask your husband. Excuse me, but I will be late for an appointment if I do not leave now." Christine said, and hurried out, knowing that such a conversation was not in her place to attend. Besides, she had other things of greater importance to attend to...

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Christine went up to the desk, but it was not the Scottish officer that stood there. Would he let her go in still?

"Mademoiselle? May I help you?"

"I'm here to see Erik Destler.Or as you perhapsknow him as...the phantom."

"Oh, he is no longer able to accept visitors."

"But he has to see me!" Christine pleaded.

"Only if you were family would you be allowed in, and the phantom has no family."

"Would fiancé count?"

"It would, but are you his fiancé?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well then yes, you are permitted. What is your name?"

"My name?"

"So I can put you down on the list of people that are able to see him - so you can go right in next time."

"Oh. My name is...Aminta. Aminta Juan." Christine said, thinking fast.

"Okay...this way, Madame Juan."

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The door to Erik's cell opened, and Christine was allowed inside. After the door was shut, she ran to the cell, where Erik knelt, his hands gripping the bars with his head bowed.

"Erik?"

His head came up, his green eyes piercing her heart. "So you came? I thought they forbad anyone else to see me now."

"Erik...all the officers in France couldn't have kept me away from seeing you."

"So...this is it. Tomorrow is the end." He said, as if it meant nothing.

"No, don't speak of it. Let us talk of other things."

"Whatever you wish."

After a pause, Christine realized that she might as well say the first important thing that needed desperately to be discussed. "You know how I stopped by Nadir's house...on the way back to Paris, and asked him to come? Well, I also went to Giovanni's."

"Oh, Christine, you didn't tell him about this, did you?"

"No. Erik...Giovanni died the night after we left."

Erik looked at her, stunned. "He's dead?"

Christine nodded.

"Well then, if God is merciful, which I doubt for He never was before, perhaps I may be able to catch a glimpse of Giovanni to say one last goodbye before I descend into Hell."

"Erik! Please, don't speak of such. I have more to say about Giovanni. He has left you his house and everything in it - including all the servants."

"He left it all to me? But he has three other daughters! Surely there must be a mistake."

Christine took the envelope out of her pocket and handed it to him. "I just received this today."

He read it over, then handed it back. "It was kind of him, but what need does a dead man have of a house?"

"Erik..."

"Forgive me. But you'll have to face this, Christine. By tomorrow, what I'm trying to say will become a reality."

Oh, curse those tears! Why did she have to cry so much? Why now? "I tried to save you! I did everything I could, but to no prevail! I do not know where to go from here!" She exclaimed, her heart leaping heavily in her chest.

"Oh Christine...what did you do?"

"I'm so sorry! I know I shouldn't have, but I had to!"

"You promised me!" He said angrily.

"I promised only because you made me! I could not just stand by helplessly and not even try to help you!"

"To whom did you decide to tell?"

"...Raoul."

"You told...you told...?" Erik exclaimed, not being able to finish saying it.

"He was the only one who could help!"

"What did he say?"

"He once told me that he would do anything for me. He lied. I asked him if he would help-"

"But instead of granting you of your wish, he very distastefully declined while proclaiming his undying love for you?"

"How do you know about that?" Christine shrieked. "Am I the last to know?"

"Christine...you knew it all along. As did I. I did not question you all that time for nothing."

Christine sank to her knees. "I didn't want you to know about how he feels."

"And why not?"

"Because I was afraid that you would think that after you were...you were gone...that I might find someone else. That it could be that easy. I don't want you to have that doubt."

He took her hand, caressing her palm with his thumb, staring down at it while he spoke. "I rather you do just that, if you must know the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you can not hold onto me forever. You will grow miserable and unhappy. That is the last thing I would wish to become of you. I would rather look up from hell to you as I always have, to watch you in another man's arms, than to see you loyal to me after I die. I rather you marry even de Changy than to carry on with just a memory."

Christine shook her head. "What could truly possess you to say such? When I say that I will love you, only you, for all eternity, I do not take that lightly. Besides...what one man could ever take your place? Who other could be my protector, my guardian, my light and my dark. The one person I trust, the one person who knows all of me. All of my secrets. Who could be my Angel of Music again, who lives only for me? There is no one else. There is no one who could take the place of you, whether I would wish it or not."

A knock on the door. "Mademoiselle Juan, time is almost up." Came a Scottish voice.

"Thank you, I'll be out in a minute." Christine called back.

Erik looked at her quizzically. "Mademoiselle Juan?"

"The only way to get in here is was if I was a family member. I told them I was your fiancé, and that my name was...Aminta Juan."

Erik couldn't help but chuckle before his face fell in dismay. Another knock came as a reminder. Christine started to rise, her breathing heavy. How could this be the last time she'd ever see Erik alive? How could their last time together end so soon.

As she started to step slowly to the door, he caught her hand. "Listen to me, Christine. Do what you want with your life. Take whatever I told you before and throw it to the wind. Just not this. Always think of this, even if you do decide to move on. I have done many bad things in my life. Countless deaths happened by my hand. I deserve to die, I do. Even if I don't want to, I can not blame those people gathered out there that hate me. They should."

Christine shook her head. "You promised me!" She suddenly yelled. "I told you I love you too much to die - but you're going to die anyway! You promised me you wouldn't! You promised that you wouldn't die!" Loud sobs came from her now, heavier than she had ever experienced in her life.

"Listen, Christine. Let me finish. I don't care about what they think. I don't care what anyone in this world thinks or remembers of me...except you. I need you to remember me, Christine. Perhaps it will help you in your grief, or maybe it will worsen it. I requested my last request before, but you broke it, so by all rights I get one more. And this is my last request. Remember...remember that I will always be with you, even if at your darkest times you think I've deserted you. As long as you keep me in your memory, I can never truly die. I'll be that voice in the cold wind that whispers to you. Listen, and you will always be able to hear my voice. If one day you do get married, and have children...perhaps you could make an addition to your father's stories and add my own in. Tell my story; not the bad parts, but the good. Tell them of my love for the fairest innocent young maiden, up to my dying breath and beyond. I'll be right there with you each time you tell my story. Remember, when your dreams have ended, and you are left cold and deserted in the night, that time can go back...that I can be with you, waiting for you to come to me. Just close your eyes...and you'll see me. And I'll sing you a lullaby as I had when you were still small. You'll picture my face, and you'll drift into peaceful dreams until morning breaks. Just always know, my dear Christine, that I will never leave you, as long as you remember me. Christine...remember me."

Christine was crying into his hand as she listened to his words.

"Will you promise?" He asked her. She nodded, her throat too constricted to say anything.

Then came another annoyed knock. "Look, Madame, I will lose my job if my boss comes in and sees you in there still." He said before sticking his head in. "Wait a minute there, you're no Madame Juan engaged to Erik Destler - you're Christine Daae! You little sneak!" He laughed. Christine blushed.

"They would not allow me in."

"Forgive them, they are only doing their jobs. But you really must come now, Mademoiselle Daae."

"I'll be right out. Promise."

The Scottish officer seemed satisfied, then shut the door. Christine turned back to Erik quickly.

"Do you still have that engagement ring you once offered me?" Christine asked him.

"Of course, but-"

"Where is it?"

"In the little table by your bed. But Christine...why?"

She shook her head, then kissed him. "I love you always!" She said over her shoulder as she ran out, now in a hurry. She paused at the doorway to see him offer her a weak smile with those sad green eyes that would haunt her forever.

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Speeding out of the jailhouse, she ran straight into Nadir. He reached up with one hand to steady his now unbalanced turban, and with the other arm, held Christine up so she wouldn't fall.

"Sorry, Nadir." She whispered, looking up at him.

"Would you allow me to take you home?"

"Don't you need to be here?"

"Here? No. I'm no longer allowed to see Erik. I'd only be sitting here to further annoy the officers. Even that is only amusing for a short while. Come,a proper young lady never walks the streets of Paris by herself."

"Proper young ladies also do not go falling in love with dying angels." Christine said sadly.

"Even so, Erik made me promise to take care of you from now on."

Christine looked at him in surprise. "He did what?"

Nadir winced. "I remember now...that was the thing he told me not to tell you. But do not take offense, he merely did not want you to be alone. So from this day forward, I will be at your service."

"What about your home? Your town?"

"Always hated that town, and the house is too big to keep up. I once stalked the halls of the Opera House just as much as Erik did; only my reason was his opposite - to watch him. I will be more than glad to do so once more. Theater has become quite the passion for me."

"Glad to hear it, though I will not be singing in it any longer. One last performance, then I take my last bow."

"Sad to hear it. Paris will suffer greatly from your absence."

"They do not come for me, they come for my name."

"Can you blame them? Everyone wants to see the great young beauty with the voice of an angel that has captured the mighty Phantom's heart."

Christine grinned, as much to her surprise as it was Nadir's.

"What is this? A smile upon the Mademoiselle Juan's lips?"

"What - do you hear everything of what I do?" She exclaimed with a laugh. "Well, enjoy it. For after today I shall never smile again."

"I hope you do not keep to that promise, my young child - you would then be ridding the world of it's sun."

Christine looked at him in wonder, then took his offered arm as they started their walk back to the opera house.

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	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Lovin' all the reviews! Keep 'em coming:D**

"Have you seen Christine, Monsieur?" Madame Giry asked, noticing the Persian walking around in the lobby, admiring different art pieces.

"Hmm? Oh, I just saw her here a few hours ago. I am restless, there shall be no sleep for me tonight, and they have officially closed the doors to the jailhouse. I thought I'd stay around here, if the managers do not mind."

"They will not even notice. They wont come until morning. Thank you for taking care of Christine, though, Monsieur. It's only common knowledge that the girl needs to be looked after right now."

"Indeed. You asked me if I seen her...is she not in her room?"

"She isnt. But if she is not here, I have a strong feeling of where she must be."

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Christine moaned as she felt her shoulder being shaken, and her name being lightly called. She didn't want to open her eyes - she was having the most wonderful dream; her and Erik were back in that blue house by the sea. She was laying on the davenport with the roaring warm fire not far from her. And Erik was rocking slowly back and forth, singing her the sweetest lullaby she ever heard. As she was being shaken to her senses, she realized that it was the lullaby he used to sing her to sleep with when she laid awake at night with nightmares that she had all too often. Another shake made her moan more, her hand gently slapping air.

"Christine, please, wake up! Christine Daae, stop trying to slap me and wake up before someone catches you and I down here!"

Madame Giry's sharp tone made Christine's eyes flutter open. She looked sadly at her elder, as the realization of the last happy few hours were just a mere dream.

"Come, child. Finish your dream up stairs." Madame Giry said in a lighter, more sympathetic tone.

Christine nodded, and wearily followed her. It was only when Christine was lying in the safety of her own bed, her eyes closing in sleep the moment her head fell on the pillow when Madame Giry noticed something shimmering in the pale moon light. A ring. A diamond ring...

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"Christine, wake up. Rehearsals are in a matter of minutes! I let you sleep as long as I could, but you really must hurry now." Madame Giry said, once again shaking Christine's shoulder.

Christine merely groaned in protest, rolling over onto her side, away from the bothersome shaking. Finally, her eyes opened. As the misty thoughts began to fade from her mind, she stared into the mournful face of Madame Giry. At first, it bewildered Christine, not understanding why she looked like so. Then it hit her, as all the breath in her lungs was knocked out.

"It's Friday...oh dear Lord...it's Friday!" Christine said in a disbelieving tone. Madame Giry continued to look the same.

"Dress, child. Ready yourself for rehearsals. Eat a bite of something, then come to the theater. You'll need to practice." She said, then turned to leave.

"Madame..." Christine called out, stopping her. When she turned back to Christine, she had a strange sickly smile upon her lips.

"Seems so like him, when you think about it." She said in a soft tone. "How he has you thinking that you're only helping him, when really, he's also helping you in return. He told you to sing your heart out for this performance...and you agreed. And because you do so, you'll regain the reconition that you should have remained before - you will not be known for all the things he has done to you, but for you. You will be known as a great actress and soprano. The last thing that he will do before his life ends...is to help you." Being satisfied in what she said, Madame Giry turned back to the doorway and left through it, leaving Christine to be tormented by new thoughts.

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"Christine, eat! Really, you must eat something! You refused me at breakfast, it is now time for the afternoon meal. This is the last chance you have to eat before the show." Madame Giry said as Christine waited on the sidelines to enter the stage. Her eyes stayed on Meg, whom begged to be a dancer still in this, not wanting to be left out just because she had no voice. For once, Madame Giry received many demanding notes, but from her daughter - not the phantom.

"I'm not hungry, Madame." Christine whispered. So far, she had yet to speak in a louder tone. How was she to get through this show?

"Now Christine, be reasonable. You know how you develope faint spells when you skip meals. Already you will be eating a very late dinner, if at all .Please eat something!"

But Christine shook her head and grabbed her basket of roses. In bare feet, she entered the stage, singing her lines in perfect tone. She tried not to notice everyone staring at her. All week their gaping mouths and large eyes were focused on her, as if they all knew her secret. Perhaps these people who known her all her life did know her deepest secret.

A young boy came through the doors. "I have been sent to fetch a Mademoiselle Daae." He said. Christine stopped singing, but it was not she who answered the boy.

"She may have no visitors of right now, young boy. She is in rehearsals." Firmin said, standing up. He and Andre had been sitting in the far corner of the first floor theater to watch the progress of their fine show.

"But sir, he is a patron here, and demands to see her right away. It was not a request." The boy said in a pleading tone.

Firmin's expression was immediantly changed. "Oh...well, you should have said so in the beginning. Miss Daae, would you please take a break?"  
Christine sighed, putting her basket down and walking down the aisle. She was in no mood to be chatting with any patron, let alone the one she knew it would be.

The young boy opened the doors to her, revealing Raoul behind them.

"Have you dismissed Erik's sentence?" She asked hopefully.

"I have not." He answered. Quickly she turned her back and started to go back into the theater, but he grabbed her arm lightly and turned her back.

"I have a few questions for you. You promised to answer them."

"Not now, Raoul! Not today!" Christine pleaded. How could he expect her to do such a thing on such a horrible day?

"Yes, Christine - today. I may be your friend, but I also must be a leader to others. The officers have been after me, saying if I do not question you, they shall. Would you rather speak to them?"

After the last conversation they had, Christine was tempted to say yes, but held her tongue and simply shook her head no.

"There now, see? We can get through this. It isnt very long. Just tell me...did the phantom take the sword from the hotel? The truth now."

"I am not aware of a sword, I told you this before." Christine said, anxious now to get back to the theater. She rather be there than here - she knew it was the lesser of the two evils.

"What about the man? Did he ever go after any one? A farmer, perhaps?"

Christine shook her head again. "I don't know. I slept alot...he didn't. But I know if he did anything, it was for my protection."

"Christine, did he attack anyone?" Raoul asked again, not satisfied with her answer.

"I just told you; not that I am aware of."

Raoul sighed. He could see through her, she knew he could. Why did he torture her so?

"Raoul...may I ask you a question now?" She said softly.

"Sure, I suppose. I can see that I might as well be done here."

"How...how did you find us? We were in Perros...but not where anyone would suspect. The officers...they seem to know the exact house."

"He just wasn't very careful, is all. First the managers of the hotel you stayed in said there was an odd...couple, at least one of you seemed to fit the description quite well. Then there was the missing sword. Not far from that hotel was the body of a farmer found. He was very badly scraped up; I suppose his accident could have killed him. But there was one cut on his neck...it seemed too precise; too rightly placed for it be just so happen something random cut him there. And then that same sword from the hotel was found a few hours up the road in a thick forest. There was also the missing opera horse wandering around. He seemed to have trampled into the town and was eating all the hay from an open field. Also, not far from the body was the remains of a dress, smothered and partly devoured by ashes. It was taken back to be questioned. We asked Madame Giry if it belonged to you, but then Meg passed by and exclaimed that it was her missing dress. There were remains of fires, though kicked about, all up to Perros; in valleys and by waterways. Christine...why did you lie to me? Why didn't you just tell me the truth? Why must you keep protecting him, even now? Can you not clear your conscious?"

Christine looked at him angrily, fury welling in her. He had known from the time he found her in the blue house that all the things she said were false. He always knew. "You want to know the truth? Erik gave his life up for me! The farmer came up behind me and put a dagger to my throat." She stopped to lift her chin, revealing a fading yet still sore red line, crusted over with scabs and dried blood that had oozed from her pores there. "The man was going to kill me if Erik did not go with him. He did, but managed to escape. Whether the farmer was in an accident or not, I do not know. Erik refused to go into much detail on how he was back. Really, I did not care. The sword he took to protect me, to make sure insane people like the farmer wouldnt hurt me. You know what? Erik understood that farmer! Couldn't blame him for what he did! He is capable of compassion, Raoul. He took care of me out there. If caring for me makes him guilty, then perhaps he is! But no matter what you say, he does not deserve the punishment he is going to receive today. It's not fair. There is no execution taking place today - it's a murder! A murder from injustice and prejudice - and you're apart of it!" She yelled angrily, then pushed open the large doors and ran back inside. A few caring people called her name to make sure she was alright, but instead of answering, she ran behind stage, away from all the people so she might be able to grab hold of her senses and take her emotions under control.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Christine was balled in a corner, tears falling upon her raised knees as she stared at the ring on her finger. She now realized what a fool she had been. Why did everyone expect her to be able to go through with this? She couldn't! She'd surely fail. She would bring no justice to Erik, and she'd be the one to ruin the opera this time.

She listened to the light footfalls of the ballet rats, and the singing of the chorus. She despized all those people out there; jealous that they could live their carefree lives while she ached in torment and pain. Never had she been a normal young lady; but now she didn't even fit in here at the opera. She seemed to belong to another world; though no one else belonged there. It was with this thought that she realized all that Erik had gone through in his life; never to fit in, only to lurk in shadows of jealousy. At least he had a place to escape to. She had no where that anyone would allow her to slip off to. She could hardly sit there in peace. She looked up as the tears spilled down her throat. Suddenly, she had an idea. Making sure that she was not needed, and that the time alone that she so desperately needed right now was freed, she ran up the iron spiral stairs until she was as high as the stage. Then, ever so carefully, she started to walk from the swinging rafters which hung from even higher. She stopped at one, looking down upon a red X near the end. It was where Joseph Bouquet had died; the crewmen had marked it in honor. Depending on how you stood, it could look like a cross, or an X. Christine liked the thought of it resembling an X today much better than a cross. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, and she carefully leapt over it and onto the next long slap of hanging wood. This brought her to the middle of the stage. Satisfied, she sat down, letting her legs dangle below. She rested her chin on her folded arms, which were placed on top of the rope. Here, she allowed her tears to fall freely as she listened to the managers exiting the theater. It was three o'clock - time to start opening the doors to the audience. She took out the pocket watch that the man playing Don Juan had loaned her. She gently swung back and forth as she watched the seconds slip quickly by. Strange, how little each second meant to everyone around her. Yet, with each tick, Erik's life got drastically shorter.

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**Alright, the next chapter is the finale - let's hear it!**


	30. Chapter 30

**--Alright, here we go! Let's finish this, shall we?**

"Christine, you must come down." Madame Giry said. Relief filled her voice in finally finding the missing soprano. "You must get your stage makeup on, your hair fixed again - there are many things to do, and the curtain opens within ten minutes! The whole audience is seated, and everyone is ready - but our lead!"

"But my character does notappear for a while into it; I have time."

"Fine, but be on time, Christine! And remember - you enter the stage from the right curtain - not from the sky." Madame Giry said, then left Christine to her peace.

Christinelistened to the lively, anxious crowds. Every once in while, there would be a yell loud enough to reach her ears. She heard tidbits of sentences, just a few words thrown together, always surrounded by the single word 'phantom', or her own name. Finally, she watched the red curtains depart from eachother, and the opera began. She watched as her tears fell. She waited until she saw Meg dance out, her feet fluttering in pearl steps, until she reached her make. She twirled, kicked, caught the weighted leather pouch, then twirled again until she was in her desired place. With that, Christine stood up and started to the stairs until she was on sturdy ground. Then, her feet flew down the spiral stairs in light steps until she was in the room that, judging by the stern faces, should have been in a while ago. Upon sitting down, two women and a man fixed her hair and applied her makeup, along with unwrinkling her gown. Then they shooed her out, and she ran backstage until she was safely in the right wing of the stage. She watched the new young Don Juan. He was only a few years older than she, yet also older than Raoul. He had long, wavy golden hair, and his build was quite muscular. Handsome, in all rights. Every ballet rat, even Meg herself, stared at him in awe whenever they had the chance. But not Christine. She stared at him now in contempt and anger. To them, he represented a possible, hopeful future. To her, he represented a replacement for the only thing that ever mattered in her life. How was she to sing her heart out to him, the very words Erik wrote for her, to this man that she despised so greatly?

The young blonde threw his head back and laughed in a low bantered voice. This was her cue, yet it was only because a stagehand pushed her out that she made it out on time.

_"No thoughts within in her head but thoughts of joy; no dreams within her heart but dreams of love!" _She sang passionately.

It was supposed to be a joyful, beautiful sound, yet hers came out beautiful and sad, full of great longing that seemed to only add to the piece. She knelt down on the stage, and, though her head remained bowed, she peeked up at Box Five. Empty, out of the phantom's respect. But the Box beside it was full - full of the Comte and the Comtess, along with the surprised looking Vicomtess. None of them had graced the theater with their presence for years. But what unsettled her was the fact that Raoul was not among them. Had she wounded him so greatly this afternoon?

She listened to the new Don Juan step back out on stage, distracting her attention. His deep voice rang out, singing to her with his own passion, yet his passion fell deaf on her ears. All the times before, if she was playing against a good actor, she'd be able to match or rise above their passion - not this time. His voice sounded more like a child's whining than beauty, even though she knew that was not what everyone else heard. She stood up, and he danced swiftly and smoothly around her, showing off all his masculinity while remaining graceful. He looked powerful as moved, as if he could sweep her up with one swift motion.

Then, as he sang of fire flooding the soul, he bounced upon her, grasping her at her throat, his face beside hers. Then he moved to her side, his fingers running down her arm. She feigned the look of excitement, as hard as it was. She didn't feel the touch of his fingertips, or could hear his voice any longer. There were parts where she was supposed to close her eyes in added effect, yet she couldn't, knowing that she wouldn't be able to know when she should start singing. It was as if her body was rebelling towards her; punishing her for this crime and sin against Erik. And with that, she couldn't blame her own body. She watched him until his lips ceased to move. Then it was her voice that rang out.

"You have brought me to that moment when words run dry. To that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence." She sang, with more emotion flooding out from her soul than she had ever experienced before. Her body may rebel, but her voice did not fail her. Encouraged, she continued. She sang eagerly now. The face she once looked at in contempt was gone. In it's place, she saw only Erik. She was singing now to him; for him, just as he had asked.

The two parted, and Christine soon felt the coldness of iron on her feet as she slowly went up the spiral stairs, staring at the Don Juan that encouraged her to continue her great passion that kept pouring out like liquid fire from her mouth, her eyes blazing. But then she wasn't so sure of herself. Her feet fell upon a new feeling - the feeling of hard wood for the makeshift bridge. Her mind was now screaming at her, screaming that she couldn't go on, that she couldn't do this. Erik's face disappeared, and her heart flooded with guilt, with the horrid feeling that she was betraying him. Breathing heavy, she continued to sing, at first more hesitant, but then the masked Don Juan's voice joined in, and she found her ears swelling as their voices rose high above them and filtered through the audience. But as their voices died out with the last note, she started to tremble, her mind taking her back in time, telling her that this is where so many things started and ended for her. This was when Erik had proposed. She grabbed the new Don Juan's forearms to steady herself as she heard Erik's rich voice in her mind, singing out the proposal words. Her ripping off his mask...

It was her line, she was supposed to sing. The man in front of her begged with his eyes to continue, reminding her that this was his career too, and that this just had to go smoothly. Reminding her that she just couldn't disappoint him. Didn't the silly boy know that she disappointed everyone around her at some point or another?

Her mouth opened to force out the shaky next words, but instead of her voice ringing out, the faint sound of bells did instead. Her face turned to stone as her body trembled violently. She now clung to this pleading man, as if he was her lifeline. The world around her began to swirl, her head feeling like it was filled with an angry ocean. The sound of the bells rang in her head, making her feel sick to her stomach. The sturdy ground in which her feet once stood now felt like it was slipping from under her. The bells stopped, and she felt herself falling in slow motion to the ground. Before she hit the hard wooden bridge, she heard someone scream in anguish, then realized it was her. Another scream came after that; one she heard too many times during her years - Meg.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Christine came through, she slowly became aware of her senses. She saw through her blurred vision Madame Giry, clinging to her left arm and repeating her name. Her head and shoulders were being cushioned, held by someone. She looked up slowly and saw it was the new Don Juan. And Meg stood behind her kneeling mother, looking frantic with worry.

"Guess I should have ate." Christine whispered hoarsely.

"Everyone knows that this has nothing to do with food." Madame Giry replied sorrowfully, tears in her eyes.

"It's Friday." Christine said in a soft moan.

"It is, my child."

"The bells rang."

"They did."

"My life has ended."

Madame Giry had no words to accompany that statement. Christine turned her head away as hot tears slipped from beneath her eyelids. A slam of the theater doors was heard, but Christine didn't flinch.

"I have a message! A message from Mademoiselle Daae!" The young boy of twelve or thirteen yelled, waving his hat as he ran down the middle aisle. When Christine heard his cry, she bounded up, which only caused her to be dizzier.

"Yes, Monsieur?" She yelled out.

The boy's gaze went up to her. "Mademoiselle Daae?"

"Speak!"

"You're to come to the town square immediately." He yelled up to her.

"I'm sorry, but I do not wish to go there." How could she face seeing the body of someone that made her heart cry swinging from the gallows?

"But something happened! I was told by a man to bring you there immediately!"

"What man is this?" She asked him.

"A...a dark man with a funny accent. He wears strange clothes, and a queer hat upon his head."

"A Persian? Nadir?"

"I believe a Persian, Mademoiselle."

With that, Christine pushed past her fellow actor and ran down his side of the steps, running down the stage and past the boy, down the aisle. No longer was she aware that anyone watched her, or that anyone was there at all. Her thoughts were only of Erik.

Her bare feet chilled as they touched the cold marble of the lobby floor, but she did not slow. She ran down the hard street, ignoring the jagged rocks that slit and cut into the soft flesh of her feet. Blood trickled out, making them throb, but she paid no mind. Finally, she saw the crowds, and Nadir awaiting for her. He yelled for everyone to make way, and they created a thin aisle for her to run down. She did so, and up the steps of the hanging gallows. Raoul stood half way up, waiting for her with a strange smile.

"Raoul?" She asked, puzzled in what he would be doing here.

"I am sorry to disrupt your opera, but I thought this was a tad bit more important in your eyes." He said with a teasing manner.

"Raoul! What is it?" She asked impatiently, not daring to look over at the stiff form on the small death stage.

"Since the moment you fled from my house, I have been unable to rest. Your voice and your pleas haunted me, and I realized how cruel my actions were towards you. I promised to always protect you, to do anything for you. And I realized then that all I accomplished for you was...was failing you. So, I have been busy ever since. Tracking down the real murderer, making sure this man did not lie to you, basically trying to accomplish the impossible. And I'm proud to tell you that I have. Monsieur Destler has not lied to you, as you knew already. I was able to track down the murderer - the real murderer. He once worked as a stagehand. My incident was his revenge in the name of the Phantom. We have caught him, and he is behind bars at this moment."

Christine's brown eyes grew large. "What are you saying?" She asked, almost not daring to hope.

"Are you telling me..."

"Yes. Erik Destler is free to go. He has been sworn under oath and the law has mildly forgiven his sins, under my influence, of course. He is free. As free as you are. Christine...today, this moment, I release you completely from our love. Go."

Christine gasped loudly, as if all the air in her lungs exploded out. It came out in joyful, dry sobs as she flung her arms around Raoul's neck. "Thank you, so much! For...everything!" She exclaimed before passing him by and running to the man in all black, a sack of the same color hiding his face. She ran into him, throwing her arms around his middle with such force, Erik had to lean back a bit from impact. After getting over the initial thankfulness just to see him alive, Christine took the tight noose from around his neck, then ripped off the sack. His eyes blinked adjusting to the light as he covered his face from the crowds. Then he looked down upon the overly joyed Christine, and his arms engulfed her in a tight embrace.

"Thank God!" She whispered passionately into his ear as her tears wet his shoulder.

Then suddenly, something else caught his attention...her finger. He released her from his hold, then took her hand and looked at it.

"What meaning would this be?" He asked in wonder, a smile already tugging at his lips. Her smile exploded from her bright face as she explained.

"You asked me before if I'd marry you; but never did I reply. Well...if you'll still have me after everything that has happened since back then, I want to answer you."

"You'll marry me? You're serious, now?"

"Why do you seem to not be able to believe it?" She asked, then held him tight again.

"Say it." He said in her ear. "Say the words."

Christine could only imagine how long he had waited to hear the words he thought he'd leave here never hearing. "If you'll still have me...I want to marry you, Erik."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, she felt her feet leave the floor as he whirled her in his arms and kissed her.

"Perhaps...perhaps fairytales and dreams do come true." She glowed.

"All I know is that the only dream that has ever really mattered to me in this life has come true in this moment."

Erik said, then looked over at the swinging noose that kept hitting him slightly in the back on his head. "Guess there wont be any dying today."

Christine shook her head. "Yes, there is. Erik...do you remember when you once said your face is what poisons our love? You were so wrong. Many, many things poisoned it, but none of them had to do with you. Rather, it was the darkness that you retreated in; what people thought of us. My naive innocence. And a certain young man's love. All, contributed to more confusion. But today, all that is gone. I have grown; you no longer live in bleakness. And Raoul became an honorable, amazing man. So much so, that I see now why Amelia is so protective of him." Christine added, looking over at the man in which she spoke of. "All those things which poisoned our love once, have now died in your place. Raoul's right...we are completely free."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Past the point of no return - the final threshold! The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn. We've passed the point of no return." Christine sang out joyously, her voice mingled in with the sweetest sound she had ever heard - Erik's captivating voice. The stood on the bridge, her back against him, doing everything as before. The audience that never left the theater when she did watched in stunned awe. Never had more passion been put so beautifully in an opera.

Christine, her eyes closed as a peaceful smile played on her lips, suddenly was snapped out of her perfect daydream by a voice in her ear.

"Say you'll share with me this love, this lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go to! Christine, that's all I ask of you!" Christine spun around in his arms as he proclaimed this. The poor audience; after the last time, they must think this part was officially written in the opera!

Erik held her hands to his lips as she looked at him in shock. She saw her finger without his ring. Erik reached in his pocket and took it out. Christine tried to think of when he could have taken it off her, but her mind was blank with answers.

Slowly she reached up and stripped him of his mask and wig. His hand immediately tried to cover his face, but she held it down. Then, with a laugh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and bounced upon her toes, reaching up and kissing him in response. Upon pulling away, Erik slipped the ring back on it's rightful place - her wedding ring finger. As she smiled into his now gloriously happy eyes, she heard a clapping. Meg. Then Madame Giry's hands joined in. Much to Christine's surprise, Raoul stood up in his box and clapped loudly. Could he possibly ever know how much that simple gesture meant to her?

Soon, everyone was on their feet and applauding in confusion but with passion. Shrugging, Christine took one of Erik's hands and bowed, him following suit. Then she released his hand and walked down the spiral stairs, keeping in rhythm of Erik. As they neared center stage, she couldn't help but think that this was how it should have been last time. Christine went to Erik to join hands again. Instead, he engulfed her in his arms and kissed her once more.

"May I have my mask back now?" He asked with a charming smile. Embarrassed that she had forgotten of it, she reached up and put it back on for him, then turned to the audience and bowed once more as the curtain closed. Then they walked backstage, into the awaiting arms of Meg and Madame Giry.

"Oh, Christine...how amazing!" Meg explained. Erik cocked his head at her.

"Aren't you sick? Incapable of talking?" He questioned her good naturally. Christine's mouth dropped - Meg had screamed when she fainted! Her voice was not failing her!

Meg's face turned a strange crimson from blushing. "I...uh..." Whether Meg was tongue tide from not knowing how to respond, or that she was actually looking at the great phantom that she was always so afraid of, Christine could not be sure. Because it was obvious no sensible words would come from her mouth, her mother spoke for her.

"She feigned sickness. I found out a few days later. She says she only wanted to take your mind off...things. And she hoped that you would get the recognition that you deserve." Madame Giry explained.

"You did that, Meg? For me?"

Meg smiled. "Of course."

Just then, Christine's gaze wandered from her dear friend, to another old friend that was making his way towards them - Raoul.  
"You were splendid!" He exclaimed, walking up to Christine and holding out his arms, which she ran into. "I never saw you do so well."  
Christine smiled as she pulled away. Raoul looked over at Erik, hesitant. "You did good as well, Monsieur. I indeed enjoyed this performance better than you last." Raoul said, his body stiff.

"Oh, truly, Vicomte? I thought myself a bit selfish. After all, I didn't give you a part this time - the last you had one of the leads."

Raoul let out a nervous laugh. "No really, it really isn't necessary. I had a big enough part on the town square death stage when I was trying to convince the judge you were not guilty. Besides...you and Christine are the fantastic actors. I am poor at the talent myself."

"You proved that quite well." Erik muttered. Christine did her best to hold in her sudden fit of giggles at such a comment, but happened to end up failing. Erik winked at her, then turned back to Raoul.

"Stay here a moment, if you'd be so kind, de Changy." Erik said, slapping him on the back before leaving. Raoul gave her a questioning look, but Christine just shrugged, clueless in what her mysterious man could be doing.

He came back a few minutes later, carrying a sword sheathed in fine black leather; a silver skull handle sticking out. It was a sword that Raoul knew too well. His fear was noticeable in his eyes. But Erik just offered it forth to him. "What you did today...I know you didn't do it for me; which makes your acts even more important in my eyes. I have done many wrong things in my life, I never tried to deny it. But a few of those wrongfully done things were against you as well. Therefore it is to you that I give this sword, on which I vow never to harm others, unless for Christine's protection only." Erik said. Raoul looked at him in shock, as if it was only now that Erik turned from the phantom into a real man. A respectable man. Raoul took the sword. "A real honor, Monsieur, I assure you. But I have something for the both of you as well, that I've been holding off. Well, tonight, I think you proved the fact indefinitely." He said, then handed them each a leather pouch, both heavy. Christine gave him a puzzled gaze.  
"While you both were gone, I put out reward money for both of you; to go to the person who found you. This is it; the reward money. No one found you before you found each other." Raoul's voice cracked as he looked at Christine, trying to hold back his pain as he talked about his Little Lotte in love with another man. "Congratulations to the both of you."

Christine shoved her pouch into Erik's hands and flung herself into Raoul's arms. "Thank you, Raoul." She whispered, so only he heard. "I know how hard this is for you."

When she pulled away from him, she saw tears in his eyes as he nodded. "Now that everything is settled, I must get back to my wife and parents; they know not why I'm back here." He said with a nod of goodbye and walked away.

"Father was right." Christine said softly. "Young boys do grow up to be valiant knights. And sometimes whom you think is the dragon, you find out it is really your prince charming in disguise, awaiting the moment you recognize him. I've seen it all now; and fairy tales do come true...and everything which poisons true love will one day wash away to leave it pure and true once again."

Erik laughed as she slipped her arm around his and they started to walk away from the bright lights and loud chatter into their quiet, peaceful abyss.

"I'll drink to that."

Christine looked up at him with glistening, idealistic eyes as he spoke his next words. "I plan to find some means of obtaining money - honorably. Once I get enough, I'll buy a home to live like every other decent being."

She watched him, waiting to hear his next words. "With you."

_fin_

**Alright, it's over! Now let me hear what you thought! I hope you all liked how this long story ended! Thanks to all my great reviewers! Your reviews meant a great deal!**


	31. AxN

**A/N:**

Hey All!

I just wanted to say that I'm THRILLED with all the replies that I have gotten from this story! You all are really amazing, and I'm really happy that I have gotten so many people to stick through this and read it...and actually like it!

Sequel...hmm...I didn't think of that before! Which is very surprising, since I like to sequel-ize everything. I just dont know when to be done with the story:) But I shall think of it - in the meantime - read my other work? I got ten other stories going on right now if you'd be so kind to go check them out. It would mean alot! My second phic was Face Your Fate. Now that one has an on going sequel:)

Anyway, just wanted to let you know how great you all are and how much you're appreiciated:D


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